A Silent Thu'um
by Universal lizard
Summary: My take on the classic Skyrim story! What if slaying the first dragon granted not only the ability to Shout, but to speak in general? The Dovahkiin is about to find out. And Lydia finds herself along for the journey as well!
1. Chapter 1

-Hello to everyone tuning in to this new story! I decided to do something different and bring back an idea I had WAY back in the day. Well, an idea as well as a modern twist. I decided to actually type up a Skyrim story, but with some creative tweaks here and there.

I should also make this clear that while I initially intended for this to be a one-shot, I decided to post this up and actually hear your opinions on it as to whether or not I should continue. I do have some ideas for where to take it, but it will all depend on what I hear I suppose...

Anyway! Enough of my prattling on, enjoy my attempt at a Skyrim story, something I've been wanting to do for a while now!

* * *

"I want you to go as well."

Lydia blinked once, then twice, and in that instant, words had almost completely failed her. Had she heard correctly? Jarl Balgruuf had ordered her to... go with them? Under normal circumstances she would have been delighted at the idea of putting down a bandit or two, or even helped to cull the numbers of encroaching wolves. Both provided her with challenge and sport that she hardly got to see much of these days, being cooped up inside Dragonsreach. And if truth be told she longed for the times when she could go out and do just that.

But this time was not like any other time; she had been ordered to fight a dragon!

"M-My Lord...?" she finally managed to say.

"Yes, you did hear correctly, Lydia," Jarl Balgruuf replied simply, his face betraying no hesitation of any kind, "If the threat of a dragon is real, then the strength of not one but at least two housecarls will be needed to face it."

Dragon? Gods, simply saying that word sounded so surreal both aloud and in her head; an actual dragon? They were supposed to be magnificent but terrible creatures from a time long ago! In fact, dating back to the Mythic Era, if what she overheard from Farengar was correct. They were supposed to measure as big as houses, with wings strong enough to blow them over! And now, after simply 'disappearing' during their time, they had somehow 'resurfaced'? Admittedly, the mystery of this situation was almost outweighing the danger...

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but heard someone else's voice behind her speak first,

"My Jarl, I should come along too! I would very much like to see this dragon!" Farengar Secret-Fire spoke with excitement in his voice that could not be contained.

"No, you're too valuable to be put at risk like this," Jarl Balgruuf shook his head, "I need you to remain here, within the safety of the keep, to continue your research into the dragons." His word was simple, yet firm, and Lydia watched in odd bemusement as the hopeful excitement vanished from the court wizard's eyes.

"As you command," he replied, then turned to walk down the stairs.

"Now, one last thing, all of you," Balgruuf addressed the three women standing before him, "This is not a death or glory mission. I need to know exactly what we're dealing with here, which means- survive." The dark elf Irileth quickly saluted a fist over her chest, quickly followed by Lydia. The third woman saw this and hastily repeated their action. Her hasty salute in this manner earned her a look from Lydia.

"Do not worry, my Lord," Irileth spoke earnestly, "I am the very soul of caution. We will succeed." With that, she quickly turned to make her way down the stairs, the other two women turning to follow her. Balgruuf watched after them as they made their departure. Then, carefully whispering well out of anyone's earshot,

"Talos guide you, all of you."

* * *

The sun was beginning to set during this time of day, light rays bathing the town of Whiterun in an embrace of orange warmth. It didn't do too much to ward off the ever present cool nip in the air, but it was welcome nonetheless. If anything, it would be much preferable to when the sun and its heat were gone completely, leaving Skyrim at the mercy of its own cold breath.

Looking down the steps she was descending, Lydia's gaze fell upon the townsfolk. They were still there, casually going about their daily lives, preparing for evening. There wasn't any sort of panic, no rushed movements, no raised voices like screaming or shouting. Clearly the severity of the situation had been contained; they had no idea about the danger outside the gates, much less that the same danger could very well come here. A part of her felt guilty that these people could not be told directly about how their lives were at risk, but her more rational side reminded her that this was for the best: the worst that could happen to any civilized city was not an outward calamity, but panic and chaos from within. Irileth had advanced on ahead, saying something about mustering more men. Leaving the warrior Lydia to walk down Dragonsreach's steps with... with... who was this person?

This... Nord woman. She had never seen her before in her life. In the many years she'd lived in Whiterun she was fairly confident she knew who everyone in the city was by face and name. But this woman was definitely a stranger to Whiterun, with her neck-length flowing light blonde hair, fair-colored skin, sky blue eyes, and her ever-present grimace. However, there was one characteristic about this person that Lydia found absolutely strange indeed.

This person was quiet. Too quiet.

Ever since she'd lay eyes on this person, she hadn't remembered her saying a single word. In fact, Lydia didn't even think she'd made any sort of sound like a grunt, laugh, hum, cough, ANYTHING that resembled a sound! And the fact that she was dressed and armed with garb and weapons of a warrior? There was not a single warrior she'd ever met that could manage to keep up a facade of silence for so long. And the more she studied this woman from watching out of the corner of her eye, the more she came to the decision...

That had to change.

"So... did you really survive Helgen?" she asked. She was greeted with silence. Glancing out the corner of her eye again, the woman kept up her decent down Dragonsreach's stairs, her head not even twitching in response to the question. Maybe she hadn't heard her?

"Hey, did you really survive Helgen?" she spoke clearer and firmer, her gaze drifting so that both of her eyes were on her. The woman definitely turned her head, eyes narrowing from the sudden raise in Lydia's voice. It was then that Lydia really noticed this woman's face in clearer detail: a trio of scar-lines marring the edge of the right side of her mouth, yet they appeared to fairly recent, if not healed as best as could be. Her lips broke apart, hanging just barely open as if she were about to say something...

Yet she said not a word.

With each passing second of no verbal response, Lydia could feel frustration within her growing more and more. Still, she tried to keep it under control as she pressed her inquiries.

"Listen, if what the Jarl had said was true, that you really encountered a dragon, some advice for how we should fight it would be very helpful!" Lydia's face quickly glanced back down to watch as her feet set down on the flat ground that was the Wind District, then looked back at the woman. It was at this point that the two women slowed their walk to a halt. The other woman's lips broke apart yet again, as if she wanted to say something. Her eyes were fully on Lydia this time, so it's not as if she was ignoring her. Lydia watched, almost in agony from the wait for anything to emerge from this woman's mouth! The woman's lips twisted, almost as if she were searching for correct words. This display carried on for what felt like an eternity, but the woman let out a small sigh, the only form of sound to emerge from her mouth today.

For Lydia, that was the tipping point.

Her shield clanging to the ground as it was dropped, she reached out and gripped the woman's front with her two clenched fists.

"What is with you?! How can someone continue to be so silent for so long?!" Lydia felt her frustration boil over by this point, "You call yourself a warrior yet you cannot even properly communicate with someone? Say something, damn you!" The woman's eyes held surprise and fear, her hands dashed up to grab at Lydia's wrists. The two women's gazes were locked on each other, the world around them disappearing completely.

"Housecarl?"

The world became clear again as they both slowly looked to the side: a Whiterun guard stood there, head tilted in confusion. In an instant, the world came flooding back to Lydia, as well as her rational sense. She released her fists from the other woman, though keeping her stern face, before turning to the guard.

"Is... everything alright? Has this person done something?" Lydia looked back at the woman, who herself was looking back and forth between her and the guard with surprise in her eyes. Her frustration just wanted her to fix- change- just SOMETHING, for this woman! However, the look in the woman's eyes continued to suggest to her that maybe there wasn't any malice involved. After all, she had been called upon by the jarl to fight this dragon, same as her and Irileth, which in itself was a great honor to be sure...

"No... no, she hasn't done... anything," Lydia relented, leaning down to pick up her dropped shield. For a moment, the panic in the other woman's eyes seemed to leave briefly.

"Are you sure? It looked like you were-"

"I said it's fine!" Lydia pressed, "We were just on our way to the gates to rejoin with Irileth."

"The gates? That's where I'm headed as well," the guard admitted, "I can accompany the two of you, if you'd like." Lydia was about to say something, until she saw out of the corner of her eye, the woman nodded, a little emphatically. She then quickly moved forward, away from Lydia and past the guard. The man followed straight after her while Lydia brought up the rear. As she matched her speed with his, the lingering issue would not leave her still.

"Guardsman?" she asked, "I have to ask... what do you know about this woman?"

"Her?" the man said, "Not too much, Housecarl. She'd only arrived here around midday, carrying a strange looking stone."

"So you did meet with her?" Lydia said, completely disregarding the subject of the stone, "Did she... say anything?"

"Well, I myself didn't speak with her," the man admitted, "But, I'd heard from some of the other guards that she'd done Jarl Balgruuf some service." As a faithful servant of the Jarl herself, this news caught Lydia off-guard.

"A service?"

"Yes, though I never actually heard what this service was." A beat passed between them before he asked a question of his own, "Housecarl Lydia, are you sure everything is alright between you and her?"

This new information completely clashed against Lydia's previous preconceptions. It was a great honor to serve the Jarl, as it would be to serve the Jarl of any hold, from returning a lost item to them to wiping out bandits in their name. All these things were done in the name of not only the Jarl, but the hold which they reside over, something that Lydia herself took great pride in. She was a warrior, who while initially was orphaned, was found and adopted into Whiterun's ranks of protectors until through hard work and dedication rose the ranks all the way to that of housecarl.

Which brought her back to this woman: while she was a stranger in her eyes, she clearly had not done anything 'wrong' or harmful to the Jarl or the realm. If anything she may have done the complete opposite! Somehow alerting Jarl Balgruuf to the threat of a dragon was a profound act of protection, second only to slaying it...

Lydia looked over at the woman walking in front of them. Was it really fair to judge her harshly solely on her lack of speech?

All thoughts in her head were cut short immediately; the woman, herself, and the guardsman had reached Whiterun's main gate, where Irileth herself was standing in front of a group of four more assembled Whiterun guards. The dark elf stood in front of them, clad in her worn yet sturdy-looking leather armor, steel sword on her hip, her arms crossed in front of her, her face of iron determination.

"Listen up everyone!" she announced, "The rumors you've all heard are true; a dragon has been spotted at our border." This news sent murmurs rippling among her audience.

"How is that possible?"

"Where did it come from?"

"What chance do we have?" The dark elf held her hand up to silence them.

"These are all good questions," she admitted, "But unfortunately, I haven't the foggiest answer to any of them. The only thing I'm certain of is that it is here, now, and has made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

"I understand, Irileth," Lydia stepped forward, "But, how exactly do we combat this dragon? Will our weapons be enough?" At this, the guardsmen and even the woman unconsciously glanced down at their respective weapons.

"That's a fair question," Irileth regarded her fellow housecarl. She could always count on her to bring forth a perspective not only as a fellow warrior, but also a more grounded-in-reality outlook to situations. It had come in handy more than once when the two of them were both dispatched by Balgruuf to settle whatever dispute lay outside Whiterun's walls, "None of us have ever encountered anything like this before..." She looked back at the others, "But one thing I can guarantee is that there is still only one of it against all of us! We have the advantage of numbers in our favor."

"Impossible," one of the guards muttered out loud, "Even with all of us, it could best us all with one stroke-"

"Enough! I won't have any of that!" Irileth interrupted, "We are honor and duty bound to defeat this creature for daring to attack this city! Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let us face it alone?" She added that last part while indicating between herself and Lydia. At this, there were nervous chattering from the guardsmen.

The sound of metal drawing against a scabbard drew everyone's attention. All looked to the other woman who was with them, a her sword drawn forth, but uncertainty grazing her features. Lydia watched this face, strangely accustomed to it by this point. Slowly, the woman's face hardened into one of determination, followed by her raising her sword to the sky. The setting sun's light reflected off the blade, a vibrant orange beacon.

This time was Lydia's turn to be surprised. She gave the woman a sincere nod of approval. There may not be any verbal standing between them, but at the very least, that was a rallying cry she could understand and get behind.

"You see? Even this person, a complete stranger to Whiterun, is willing to fight for it!" Irileth said, "Now what do you all say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?!"

"Yeah!"

"Damn right!"

"Yeah!" Satisfied with the responses, Irileth nodded her head once with a smile.

"Then let's move out!" With that she led the party towards Whiterun's gate. The nearby gates-man opened the massive doors for them, he himself passing off wishes of good luck to them all.

* * *

The western watchtower sprouted up from the land. How it still did so was to everyone's amazement, considering the wreckage that surrounded it. Littering the ground all around were massive chunks of the tower itself, broken off from the tower's walls. And if that weren't enough, these broken pieces of debris were still smoldering with embers!

Lydia, the woman, and the guardsmen stood behind a nearby large rock, while Irileth stepped forward for a closer survey.

"Hmm, no sign of any dragon now, but it sure looks like it's been here..."

"By the Gods," Lydia said, "A dragon really did this? To a years-old watchtower?"

"This is bad..." one of the guards muttered. Irileth shook her head and turned around.

"I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if a dragon is still somewhere close... Everyone spread out! Look for survivors!"

"Understood!" Taking point, Irileth led the group out from behind the rock and towards the watchtower. Their pacing slowed down as they avoided the stray pieces of massive rubble that littered the road. Lydia and the woman both found themselves on one side of the tower, when a sound reached their ears.

"Urgh... help...!" The two women looked at each other.

"You heard that too, right?" Lydia said, to which the woman nodded, "But where- there!" She suddenly looked past her and found the source: a guardsman was on the ground, his lower half buried underneath a massive piece of the rubble. His helmet was shattered to where a whole chunk of its right side was missing, so that both women could see the look of pain and fear in his exposed eye, "Everyone, over here! Someone's alive over here!"

She didn't wait around for others to follow, as she instinctively rushed over to his side. She was briefly aware that the woman had rushed over to his other side from behind her, and that the other guardsmen were approaching.

"Are you alright?!" Lydia said, then moved to lift the debris, "Hold on, we'll get you out!" Bending her knees, she clenched her eyes as she strained.

"N-no, get back...! It's still here somewhere!" she could hear the guardsman weakly speak beneath her.

"Hergi!" one of the guardsmen called out as they had reached their position. As one, they all moved to different spots around the broken debris and lifted together. Hergi's pained screams rang out as the large stone was slowly lifted off of him, "There, someone pull him out! Hurry, this thing is heavy!"

"Give me your hand-!" Irileth reached to grab his hand and dragged him across the ground. It felt like the large rock was beginning to slip from Lydia's grip, "Alright, he's out from underneath!" Large relieved grunts were made as everyone else quickly dropped the rock back down with a thud. After quickly rubbing the soreness out of their hands, they rushed over to Hergi's side.

"Hergi! Thank the Gods you're alive!" a guardsman said, "What happened? Did a dragon really do this?"

"Argh, yes..." Hergi uttered, "But Hroki and Tor... that thing got them! I don't think it saw me since I was already there..." he pointed to the spot they'd rescued him from.

"But where is this dragon, quickly now!" Irileth pressed. Just then, an echoing sound carried on the wind. Everyone looked up, but Hergi shuddered in pure terror.

"Oh, Kynareth save us! It's coming back!" He feebly pointed a finger in a direction behind them, and turning around, everyone could see it. It appeared as a speck against the dusk sky, but the moon's light still managed to reflect off of its scaly hide. Two massive wings on both sides of it propelled it through the air, making its very mass appear to grow in size to everyone ground side.

Lydia slowly felt her hand being drawn to her sword hilt. Her eyes looked upon this creature with anxiety and anticipation. This would be a glorious battle, that would grant her either victory or Sovngarde.

"By the Divines..." one of the guardsmen muttered.

"Quickly now, two of you get Hergi inside the watchtower; he'll be safer in there!" Irileth ordered.

"We'll do it!" A guardsmen spoke up, indicating to himself and another standing next to him. They quickly moved to carefully grab him by his arms, while trying to minimize how much the man would end up screaming in pain.

"Everyone else, this is it!" Irileth drew her sword with her right hand, while her left hand began to produce small crackles of lightning, "Archers, make every arrow count; let's bring this beast down!"

The dragon's roar seemed to engulf all present as it was finally upon them. Up closer, the flapping of its wings could be heard clearer and felt harder through the air itself. Now that it was much closer, the dragon's body itself appeared to be slightly curving itself up and down on the wind the same way a slaughter fish would swim through water.

The one guardsman that still stood with them knocked an arrow into his bow and took aim along its sights. His aim wavered along with the dragon's flight path as he tried to take aim. His arrow released and sailed through the air, only to bounce harmlessly off of the dragon's upper scales.

The dragon appeared to have felt this, its eyes glancing down at its ground side opponents, and it curved itself through the air for another pass.

"It's moving too fast! I can't get a fix on it!" the guardsman called out. The dragon suddenly halted its forward movement, and everyone looked up to see that it now was hovering in mid-air, directly in front and above them.

"There, it stopped moving! Bring it down, while-!" As Irileth called out with her own hand charging up a lightning bolt, the dragon made a low, guttural sound, almost like it was inhaling...

Another, though different kind of roaring sound crackled through the air, as the dragon blasted a wave of fire from its mouth, straight down at the ground. On instinct, everyone on the ground jumped and dove away from the point of impact. One unlucky guardsman did not move fast enough and the fire engulfed his entire right foot.

"ARGH!" he shouted out even as he managed to jump away and behind another brick boulder. As Irileth's worried eyes watched him, they looked back up at the dragon, who by now ceased its breath of fire.

"Trond!" another guardsman called out, nimbly moving to his comrade's side.

"Wait, there! Now!" she suddenly called out. Propelling her left hand forward, she discharged the lightning into a bolt straight at the creature. The lightning struck it squarely in the chest, but while it left no more than light scoring, the dragon did utter a different sound; one that almost sounded like pain. In addition, its head and neck wobbled and its two wings flapped out of sync with each other for but a brief moment, before the massive reptile regained control over both of them. As Irileth charged up more lightning in her hand, the dragon cast a glance down in her direction. It's slitted eyes regarded her, its immediate assailant, almost with admiration. Its wings then propelled it forward away from its hovering position, just barely missing Irileth's follow-up lightning bolt and Lydia and the woman's loosed arrows.

"Blast! I almost had it!" Lydia cursed.

"Focus Lydia," Irileth said, "Did you hear that sound it made? I think it was hurt by that lightning bolt!"

"Really?!" Lydia said, surprised, "Well? Hit it again!"

"I plan to! But..." Irileth said, quickly looking around, "I think I have an idea! Any of you guardsmen who can still stand, hang back with me and get your arrows at the ready!"

"Understood, housecarl!" the third guardsman said, pulling forth his bow.

"And Lydia," Irielth turned back to her fellow housecarl, then pointed to a patch of open land that had fewer boulder debris littering the ground, "You take position out in the open there. Try and get its attention-"

"What?! And be burnt by that fire-?!"

"And while its distracted, we'll bring it down while it's better in our sights!" Irileth cut her off. Lydia's facial expressions did not suggest she was at ease with this plan, "Lydia, from one warrior to another, you can trust me with this, can't you?" The black-haired woman sighed, but nodded her head.

"I trust you, Irileth, don't let me down," she said, then looked at the woman, "And that goes for you as well." The silent woman nodded as well. Lydia turned and raced over to the open area. She holstered her bow and replaced it with her shield in her left hand and her trusted sword in her right. Looking up in the sky, the dragon was racing through the air, its head looking straight down at her. Lydia beat the hilt of her sword against her shield a few times, a variation of an ancient Nord rallying cry.

"Come on, you scaled bastard! Over here!" Lydia called out. The dragon appeared to make a beeline straight for her. White-knuckled fists gripping her sword and shield, certain death barreling airborne straight for her, she readied her sword in front of her, prepared to slash...

CRACK!

The familiar sound of lightning cracked through the air. Lydia watched as Irileth's lightning bolt found its mark squarely on the dragon's face. There was no mistaking it this time; the dragon uttered a painful cry as it recoiled its head. Following suit, a volley of three arrows sailed through the air, at least one of them striking true against the veiny skin of its wing. It's wing crippled this time, the dragon's forward momentum was now transferred to a downward fall.

"Yeah!" one of the guardsmen called out.

"Damn good shooting, boys!" Irileth congratulated. The ground itself seemed to rumble from the sheer impact of the dragon crashing. However, Irileth watched on as while the dragon did hit the ground, it didn't immediately stop. In fact, it was actually skidding across the dirt, right towards...

"Lydia! Get out of there!"

The black haired Nord didn't need to be reminded to get the clear message. The dragon was again bearing straight down on her, this time from the ground! She spun around, as fast as her legs could carry her, and bolted in the opposite direction. Glancing over her shoulder, she almost stumbled after seeing that the dragon was approaching her faster than she had anticipated! In fact, before she knew it, she was thrown forward from the motion. She fell to the ground, the wind briefly knocked out of her, and her shield rolling away from her as she had lost grip of it.

"Ugh, by the..." she uttered. Eyes widening, she looked behind her. The dragon had stopped its forward skid, but was now pulling itself to its feet, in a relative sense. Now directly before her on the ground, Lydia got a clearer sense of just how large this dragon really was; it stretched as long as at least forty feet from its head down to its tail! It's two massive wings curved in still managed to appear imposing, even with an arrow or two protruding from them! While these wings didn't appear to be that well 'armored', the same could not be said for the rest of this creature's body. Even as far as its tail tip, rows upon rows of thick, sharpened scales lined this creature's back, each one managing to somehow glisten in the moonlight. They ran all the way down the length of its neck to its head, its massive, scaly, horned head, with red, slitted reptilian eyes staring straight at her. For the first time since she could remember, Lydia felt a weight in the pit of her stomach; a pure sense of dread that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Her left hand twitched, and she was suddenly reminded that she no longer held her shield! Frantically looking around the ground, she hoped it would still be close by to her. Unfortunately, the dragon exhaling a sudden burst of air from its nostrils at her would not be giving her any reprieve. As such, Lydia quickly slashed, putting as much weight as she could into her sword slash. The dragon head actually turned, confirming that she had struck true, so she followed it up with another.

"Hrgh, take this-!" As she tried to follow up with a third, the dragon's maw suddenly shot out, catching her blade in its rows of sharpened teeth. Lydia jerked her hand as hard as she could, and even tried pulling on the hilt with both hands, but the sword stayed firmly locked in the dragon's maw. The beast turned its head to the side, pulling Lydia along with it, then jerked it to the opposite side, effectively throwing her back to the ground. The housecarl rolled to the ground and back to her feet, only this time found that she was completely unarmed. Looking up, she watched in horror as the dragon brought its teeth down hard and shattered her blade into many pieces.

In an instant, Lydia felt her heart shatter in tandem; that blade, 'her' blade... the very sword that was a gift to her from the Jarl... it was gone. Snapped to pieces just like that in the mouth of a scaly monster!

Looking back up, Lydia could only watch, literally empty-handed, as the dragon reared its head back. Whether it was to flame her alive or snap her in half with its teeth, what did it matter? Sovngarde awaited her...

A rush before her, and Lydia was forced back to reality. The silent woman had dashed before her and slashed her own sword up, knocking away the dragon's head before it could do her in!

"Wha-? You? Where did you-!" the woman didn't respond, as she was already moving. The dragon's head was returning back to where it was, and the woman moved to quickly climb on the back of it! Lydia blinked: this woman, this CRAZY woman just climbed onto the back of the head of a DRAGON! Who was this person?!

The dragon wasn't taking kindly to this either, waving its head up and down, side to side, desperate to shake the woman off. In the break of its shaking, the woman began to make her move by slashing quick strikes at the right side of the dragon's head. Each successful strike was followed up by a painful groan from the dragon that grew louder and louder. Eventually, a spot on the dragon's head showed a clear bloody gash was forming! These creatures can bleed!

By now the dragon was violently shaking its head, and in fact had succeeded in knocking the shield from the woman's grip. However, with a freed hand she was able to grab onto the dragon's left head-horn for support. Finally, the dragon stopped shaking its head again. Seizing this opportunity, the woman took grip of her sword with both hands, gritted her teeth, and plunged the blade straight into the gash she'd created.

The cry the dragon uttered this time was guttural, defeated, and death-rattling, as well as its head slowly collapsing to the ground with a thud. The woman was thrown forward into a roll, but did not pull herself to her feet as quickly. Luckily, Lydia was there to help her up.

"By the Gods," she breathed, "I don't even know what to say... You saved me." The woman looked at her, eyes meeting for a handful of seconds, and she smiled.

"Lydia!" the women turned to see Irileth joining them, "Thank goodness you're still alive! Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am," Lydia said, "That was a well placed shot on your part."

"Yes, well," the dark elf said, "Let's make sure this overgrown lizard is really de-" Irileth cut herself short when something began to happen. In the dragon's skull, where the sword still lay embedded, the surrounding scales began to glow red, then yellow, then white as they were... burning away?

Irileth turned to the woman,"That's some sword! Just how enchanted was that thing?" she asked, genuinely impressed. Her expression softened when she noticed the woman's face. While she still didn't say anything, her face was one of complete confusion and denial, even when she shook her head. At this, Irileth looked back at the dragon to find that its skeleton was beginning to show itself from how fast this 'burning' taking place.

"Everyone... get back!" she called out. She and Lydia quickly moved away from the dragon's corpse, but the woman continued to stand there, transfixed. The burning effect by now had completely engulfed the dragon's body, yet strangely these flames did not singe the surrounding grass that it touched. Stranger still, this flame gave off no heat, despite it glowing a magnificent yellow-orange in the night. The woman found herself lifting her hand out towards this conflagration...

Waves of translucent energy suddenly lashed out straight into her outstretched hand. The woman pulled her hand back, but the energy continued to seep straight into her. She was fearful at first, visibly struggling... until she calmed herself. This energy, which appeared to be... transferring, from the dragon skeleton into her, seemed to now flow directly into her through her eyes. They widened, starring unfocused into the night sky. Her mouth hung open, but still no noise was uttered from her throat.

Finally, the energy ceased to flow, and the dragon's skeleton began to dim from no more energy flowing from it. On the other hand, the woman found herself bent over. Her eyes and mouth were clenched shut, and her hands were clamped over the sides of her head. She trembled slightly, but aside from that made no other movements.

Off to the side, Irileth and Lydia watched this entire event happen.

"One thing just leads to another..." Lydia breathed, "Now what just happened?"

"I'd say..." Irileth said, "I'd say we won!" Cautiously, Lydia approached the woman and the dragon skeleton. She got within five feet from her when the woman suddenly looked back up at her. Lydia recoiled at the sudden movement.

"Hey hey!" she said, "Are- are you alright?" the woman did not reply, nor gave any sort of response, "What... what happened? What did... you do?" The woman's hands suddenly clamped over her mouth, as if she were about to retch her innards straight out of her mouth. However, instead of bending over and down, the woman bent her back, opened her mouth, and a single noise emerged from her mouth, bearing straight to the heavens itself,

**"FUS!"**

* * *

Within the darkened halls of High Hrothgar, despite being miles away from Skyrim's ground level, they heard it, clear as an eagle's cry on the wind.

Four hooded figures, all having a grey beard styled differently from his peer, knelt together in the lightly illuminated central chamber. Each one looked at the other; they had each heard it, there was nothing that needed to be said. A new one had emerged, after many years, now they must put out their call for who ever it might be to hear.

Picking themselves up, the Greybeards exited the old stone building and gathered in the outer courtyard. The four of them stood around a single brazier holding a roaring fire, the only heat source in the midst of this terrible snow storm. They stood, in this moment of perfect yet delicate balance: the ice cold of the snowstorm, and the fiery heat of this bonfire. As one, they cried their Voices out, a great thunder to be heard all across Kynareth's domain:

**"DOVAHKIIN!"**

* * *

-Well? What did you all think? Let me know in any reviews or PMs you leave me on what I can improve, do differently, or if you think I should continue!

P.S. Cookie, I hope this was good enough to sate your Skyrim curiosity! : ) -


	2. Chapter 2

-Greetings once again, to everyone who's actually tuning in! I only say that because holy crap, I have never seen so many people actually showing up for reading, favoriting, following, and even reviewing a story of mine! Was that really what it took, openly saying feedback was encouraged? If so, I'll need to do this more often! Regardless, thank you so much to everyone who's been giving this endeavor of mine some appreciation! I'll try not to disappoint from here on out!

Anyway, on with the next chapter!-

* * *

The woman's legs gave out from beneath her and she started to fall. Luckily, Lydia's own legs moved fast to catch her before she could hit the ground. She held her in her arms, looking down at this... this absolutely crazy woman, who had managed to go above and beyond in surprising her, all within the span of a few hours! The face that looked back up at her held genuine confusion and even fear on it.

"Are you alright?" Lydia asked. The woman's mouth twitched open again. For a moment, Lydia was expecting silence to greet her yet again, however,

"Ah-" The air around them rumbled slightly, causing Lydia to shift her feet in place as she oriented herself. A sound had emerged from her mouth! She had... she'd... said something?

Immediately, the woman's hands snapped up and clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide open in pure terror this time, while her face flushed red. Her eyes darted all around, as if she had forgotten where she was in that moment. Lydia saw this look in her eyes, this exact expression, and she could easily see. This was the look of someone who was... lost. Someone who suddenly did no know where they were in the world, or even who they were. It was as if she had been ripped from one world, and was thrust into another.

The woman's eyes then looked up at her, then down at herself. Her face flushed again as she realized the exact manner in which they were positioned. Fortunately, Lydia picked up on this as well.

"Oh, um..." the housecarl set her back so she was standing straight up on her own feet, "Did... you just... speak?" The woman stared at her, her mouth broke open.

"Eh-" A smaller rumble of air exited her mouth this time, yet the woman still snapped her mouth shut. She was panting and sweating this time, as opposed to her eyes frantically darting everywhere.

"Housecarl Lydia!" Lydia spun around to find a trio of the guardsmen approaching from behind, one of them limping in pain while being supported by wrapping his arm over the shoulder of his fellow, "Housecarl! Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am well, but..." This was... strange, to say the absolute least. How exactly could she place into words precisely what had happened just now? The fighting and slaying of this dragon, it's 'death', this strange woman's involvement, plus on a personal note, the fact that she actually said something! The beginning was always the best place to start, so Lydia composed herself to speak.

"I can't believe it. She's... Dragonborn!"

Words immediately died in her throat, and her eyes shot straight to the limping guardsman, Trond, at his sudden exclamation. In fact, all eyes fell upon him.

"Dragonborn?" Lydia uttered in confusion, sparing a quick look between the woman and then back to the guard, "What are you talking about? Are you delirious from that wound there-?"

"What else could it be?!" Trond insisted, "She slayed the dragon and... absorbed its power! Then she Shouted! You all saw and heard it, just like in the oldest tales, a Dragonborn that slays dragons and steals their powers to Shout as they do!"

"Maybe you're right!" another guardsman chimed in, "I remember when my grandfather would tell me bedtime stories about the Dragonborn! How he-"

"Alright, settle down, all of you!" Irileth cut in, "Let's not get so winded from mindless babble so soon after a fight. I feel we should be more thankful that we not only just survived a dragon, but learned these things can actually be killed! That's the reality of this situation."

"Irileth? You believe in this, don't you?" Trond asked, "Lydia?"

"And especially you, Trond," Irileth said, "Your wound may not be as serious as Hergi's, but you both need to be looked at and treated immediately."

"I-" Trond slumped his head, "Yes, housecarl." With that, Trond, his supporter, and the other guardsmen moved the watchtower to find Hergi. With the men gone, Irileth turned to face the women before her.

"You weren't kidding, were you?" Lydia asked, gazing off to the skeleton of the dragon, "We really did just survive this, didn't we?"

"Yes, it was one of the hairiest fights I've ever been a part of, that we've ever been part of..." Irielth replied. She turned back to the woman, "And as the honorary 'dragon-slayer' as it's been put so elegantly, I'm glad you're on our side." Without hesitation this time, the woman nodded once.

"So what should happen now?" Lydia asked.

"The guardsmen will be escorting Trond and Hergi back to Whiterun. I think I'll go with them," the dark elf said, "You two had better get back yourselves and report this to Jarl Balgruuf. He'll want to know of our massive victory."

"You want to go alone? You're sure?"

"Please, after facing down that scaled bastard, looking after some local guardsmen will seem trivial..." Irileth assured her with a smile.

"Alright then, I guess-"as Lydia was about to turn around, her gaze fell upon the dragon's head, or rather what was beneath the dragon's head: the shattered pieces of her sword, "Oh... no..."

"Lydia? What are-?"

Ignoring her dark elf counterpart, Lydia rushed over to the dragon's skeleton. She dropped down to her knee but after no less than a second was instantly reminded that she was face to face with a deadly creature that almost killed her! True it was no longer flesh and blood, nor possessed it for that matter, but who knows what such a beast was capable of! Looking up, its very empty eye sockets still appeared to bore holes into her, its skeletal jaw almost laying dormant and ready to snap at her again. Lydia nearly recoiled at the thought alone, but she swallowed her fear and reached down for the pieces. There were four of them, hilt included, but she handled them with great care. It wasn't just a weapon... it was 'her' weapon...

"Your sword," she could hear Irileth behind her sigh, "Lydia, you knew this would happen one day; that you'd lose your weapon..."

"I-" Lydia spun around to snap at the dark elf, but stopped when she saw the sincerity on her face, in her eyes, "... I know... I just never thought this day would come..." She felt a hand on her shoulder, but looking up was surprised to find it was not Irileth's, but the other woman! She too held a look of sincere apology on her face. Lydia swallowed, metaphorically swallowing her negative feeling. She reached into the small bag she carried on her hip and pulled out a simple cloth, no longer than the length of her own arm. It would be sufficient enough to wrap up the pieces into a bundle.

Irileth walked back to the tower to join the guardsmen, leaving the two women alone. Both of them spared one last glance at the dragon's skeleton, differing thoughts entering their heads, then turned to make their way back to Whiterun.

The roads of Skyrim held plenty of risk when traveling them. Even before Ulfric Stormcloak had first incited the Civil War, plaguing the land with Stormcloaks and Imperials clashing with each other, travelers still had plenty to fear what this land was home to. Whether it be the native creatures like its wolves, saber-cats, and massive frostbite spiders, to the more humanoid predators like bandits, traversing this land was always a risky venture. It was not a place one would want to find themselves alone in... or out at night... or without a means of defense...

For Lydia, all three of these things applied to her.

Her sword, her beloved sword... it was gone! Snapped to pieces as if it were a chunk of fragile ice! As she walked, she looked down at the pieces in her bundle, holding them carefully as if their edges could still cut through the cloth. Every weapon was to be treated as if they could end a life, as she was taught. Of course, that was when they actually looked the part of 'weapons'. As it was, the sword that she had used throughout her whole life, granted to her ever since she'd first joined the Whiterun guard, lay before her into shattered chunks. As Lydia looked down, each piece reflected an independent image of herself back at her, showing her three different images of her own sad face looking back up at her.

"-ry..."

Lydia's head was slowly drawn up. There was only one place that sound could've come from. There was no disputing it at all. She turned to the woman, who didn't turn away out of shyness this time. She was returning her gaze with one of sincerity.

The many 'firsts' just kept piling up today.

"Did... did you just... say something?" Lydia cautiously asked. The woman's mouth broke open, but like before hesitated from having any sort of noise exit it. This time felt different, however. The woman seemed to stop herself after remembering the last time something did emerge from it. So instead of refusing any sort of response altogether, she brought her lips closer together, and whispered,

"... Y-yesss..." Lydia's gaze was upon this woman yet again. While she was not necessarily displeased with this response, her eyes did narrow.

"That's not... I mean, you're whispering..." The woman's eyes narrowed slightly in return.

"I... can't talk... louder... or I might..." From the way she whispered these words, it didn't sound as if she was struggling against any sort of barriers, but rather out of... fear?

"You've never used that Voice before, have you?" Lydia asked. The woman shook her head.

"No, I-" Thunder cracked so suddenly across the night sky, startling both women. Looking up, both were also in confusion by what they could see, or rather couldn't; the night sky this evening was completely clear and cloudless. It was as if the stars above themselves echoed a thunderous cry upon Nirn!

And it was upon this thunder, that both women heard something else; a familiar voice:

**"DOVAHKIIN!"**

Finally, the thunder receded, leaving familiar silence throughout the night once again. Lydia and the woman looked straight at each other's faces, confusion greeting both of them.

What was that?

* * *

Dragonsreach's massive doors creaked open, and the two women entered. They were cordially greeted by the pair of house-cleaners who were finishing up their nightly cleaning and planning to retire for the evening. Despite this, Lydia could catch the faint anxiety in their faces as they spoke.

"Fianna? Is everything alright?" Lydia asked.

"Housecarl, didn't you hear it?" the cleaner said, "That thundering in the sky! That weren't no lightning I'd ever heard in all my years!"

"The end of days, I tell you-!" the other house-maid said.

"Please, calm yourselves, both of you!" she said, "I assure it is nothing! Perhaps thunder of a distant storm from one of the other provinces being heard here in Skyrim?" The two cleaners complied with silence, "That being said, it's urgent we speak with the Jarl."

"I just saw Jarl Balgruuf retire to his bedchambers," Fianna said, "I don't think-"

"Housecarl Lydia!" A voice from behind announced. All turned to see the Jarl's steward, Proventus Avenicci, standing atop the entry-hall's steps, "You have returned!"

"We have, Proventus," Lydia said, "But has Jarl Balgruuf already retired?"

"Actually, the Jarl is still awake and about," Proventus said, "If you have news to report, he will need to be informed immediately. You'll find him upstairs in the planning room." With nods from both of them, Proventus walked away, and the two women made their way across the massive inner gathering hall of Dragonsreach. They reached the side stairs that would lead them upstairs, but not before catching glimpses of the massive dragon skull that was mounted on the wall above the Jarl's chair. It was almost uncanny how this dragon skull looked identical to the skull of the so-recently slain dragon; as if it was a preserved artifact from the past brought to the present... albeit a rather frightening artifact.

The two reached the top of the stairs and turned to find Jarl Balgruuf, along with his brother Hrongar, standing around their war table opposite them. The two could hear they were speaking of something to each other until they noticed their own approach. Their gazes quickly turned into that of odd reverence.

"Ah, it's good you made it back," the burly Hrongar said, "My brother Balgruuf would speak with you now."

"But, only you two return?" the Jarl asked, "Was the dragon at the watchtower? What happened?"

"My Jarl..." Lydia started, then briefly hesitated; how was she to recount such a tale? So many incredible discoveries and feats had been achieved just this very night! A quick breath, and Lydia began anew, "The rumors were true; a dragon was spotted at the western watchtower. It had nearly destroyed it as well as nearly killed the guardsmen that were posted there."

"All of them?" Hrongar asked.

"Thankfully, no," Lydia replied, "We did find one survivor: Hergi, though his legs were crushed by debris. We managed to get him to safety, but just barely so as the dragon itself had appeared!"

"By the Divines, so it's true," Balgruuf breathed, "Just like out of Father's old stories; where dragons had ruled over the skies of this world... But, what of Irileth? And the other-?"

"My Jarl-" Lydia cut in, then quickly chastised herself mentally for interrupting the Jarl, "You need not worry; we've suffered no further casualties and..." Lydia hesitated, considering what she was about to say. Did 'they' really slay the dragon? Wasn't it this woman that got all the credit? She was the one who dealt the killing blow, after saving her of course...

And what about herself? Her role in the battle was to- well... She unconsciously brushed her hand against the bundle wrap that held the remains of her sword. That's right, it was hardly even a fight for her, having faced a creature capable of destroying her beloved weapon! How could this be properly conveyed to-

"Jarl... Balgruuf..." There it was again. Lydia's head turned again. There was no mistaking it at all; those words had emerged from the woman's mouth! Except this time, it was a soft sound, almost too unbearably quiet to hear, but it was audible enough. Yet another 'first' to add to this night's quickly growing pile.

Balgruuf turned his head as well, "Hmmm? What is it?"

"I... ah, that is..." Lydia could almost swear the woman's eye glanced in her direction for a brief moment as she spoke, "well... 'we' slayed the dragon."

"Truly?" the Jarl breathed, "By Ysmir! That's wonderful news! You've done me and my city a great service, and we are all in your debt-!"

"Wait, that couldn't have been all..." Hrongar said, "Brother, the summoning..."

"The summoning?" Lydia asked with narrowed eyes.

"Didn't you hear the thundering sound when you returned to Whiterun?" Both women's eyes widened.

"Yes, we did!" Lydia said, the woman nodding as well, "But that couldn't have been thunder, could it?"

"That was no mere thunder, housecarl," Hrongar said, "It was the Voice of the Greybeards! They have summoned for the Dragonborn!" Both Lydia and the woman gave different gasps. The Greybeards? Lydia had only heard of them as a group of old men hermits who spoke to no one while possessing some incredible power! And now they've... Lydia's gaze fell back upon the woman, her own face holding unknown, but likely different feelings. What this woman had, and what she had done... was it the same as them?

"I... think..." the woman spoke softly. The Jarl regarded her, until his brother cut in.

"Wait... wait a moment..." Hrongar leaned his head slightly in the woman's direction, "You, woman. Your voice sounds..."

"Huh-?!" the woman recoiled in mild surprise, but the sound she made was slightly louder than those she had made. It was with this that thicker vibrations were felt upon the air following this sound. One hand shot to her mouth this time, but attempting to hide it was futile. The two men's eyes widened.

"There! I could hear it!" Hrongar declared, "She has the Voice! Brother, clearly she is the one the Greybeards have summoned!" Balgruuf's eyes looked back and forth between his brother and the slightly flustered woman. He was silent, at least at first when allowing his brother to speak, but then addressed him.

"Hrongar... Please leave us," he said, "I would speak with her, alone. Both of them, in fact."

"... Very well..." Hrongar said, dissatisfaction present in his voice, "I'll see you in the morning..." And with that, he turned to enter the massive side door that led to the bedchambers.

"Now then... I..." Jarl Balgruuf said, "I suppose... I owe you an apology..."

"My Lord?" Lydia said, struggling to keep the astonishment out of her voice. Jarl Balgruuf admitting himself to guilt was so rare a thing that it almost was unheard of, yet here he was, delivering one to this strange, strange woman...

"When you first arrived in my keep, I had thought it... disrespectful, that you were not openly conversing with me..."

"Jarl..." The woman spoke while keeping its softness in better check, "I didn't... er, that is-"

"Please, it's quite alright," the Jarl cut her off, "As I said, I am apologizing to you. Because now, I can clearly see the reason behind it." He took a moment for a deep breath and said, "You are the Dragonborn the Greybeards were summoning." The woman's eyes widened, with wonder and confusion.

"Dragonborn..." she breathed, "The guards... they said the same thing... what does it mean?"

"Well, according to the old tales, the Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted with the Voice; the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or a Shout."

"Shout?" Lydia said, looking at the woman, "That was what you did?"

"Aye, and the Greybeards must have heard it," Balgruuf replied, "Which is why if they believe you to be Dragonborn, they would be the ones who could teach you how to use this power you wield."

Lydia broke her gaze from the woman only to close her eyes and shake her head. This woman, this non-talkative woman standing before her, was some kind of hero of old? A dragon-slaying hero with the ability to use their powers as well?!

And she had been saved by her?!

Looking back, the woman had taken a step back, a hand over her chest. She was staring at the floor, eyes darting here and there, unfocused, as if she was in panic.

"I'm... a Dragonborn...?" she whispered, "But... I can't be... Why? I'm no one... special ... I can't even talk."

"Sometimes, people who are the most special come from the most unlikeliest of places," Jarl Balgruuf said, "You, despite not officially living in my city, came to its defense against a dragon itself! Never underestimate how that level of courage can define you."

"I..." the woman struggled not only to keep her voice low, but also to find the right words in general, until she whispered with a sigh, "This Voice... if it's a part of me... maybe I should learn how to use it."

"That's good to hear," Balgruuf said, content with her response, "Now then, what I can tell you about this journey: the Greybeards reside within High Hrothgar, upon the Throat of the World, Skyrim's great mountain."

"That mountain?" Lydia asked. She was familiar with this mountain; any Nord worth their weight knew of the tallest mountain in all of Skyrim. The Throat of the World was aptly named as a mountain that stretched high enough for its tip to pierce the heavens!

"Indeed," the Jarl continued, "They live in peaceful seclusion there, high above the world... oddly... disconnected from the troubles of below..." Jarl Balgruuf seemed to trail off in thought, then shook his head, "But anyway, anyone wishing to make proper pilgrimage to them must climb what's known as the 7,000 Steps." At this mentioning, both women shifted in different, but almost dramatic ways; the woman took a few steps back, while Lydia had backed up and found that her hands were supporting her from off the table behind her.

"7,000?!" the woman breathed, her increased tone accidentally causing rippling vibrations through the air again.

"My Jarl, how do you know this?" Lydia asked as well.

"Why isn't it obvious?" Jarl Balgruuf asked, "I made the pilgrimage once myself, many years ago. Did you know that?"

"N-no, I never did!" Lydia said, dumbfounded. All her life she'd served under Jarl Balgruuf, she had never once known him to step outside his city for anything aside from business and politics.

"It's true, I once trekked along the Path on Skyrim's great mountain..." Balgruuf said, "But even back then, I knew someone like me wasn't even worthy to look upon the faces of the wise Greybeards... thus, I had contented myself to simply walk the path, and know what it was they had to experience..." he looked at the woman again, "But you, the Greybeards have summoned for you personally, and there's no refusing their summons; it is a tremendous honor." The woman regained herself, in her feet, and in her posture. These words of high reverence were beginning to sink in, and her face hardened with resolve.

"How... do I... get there?" she whispered.

"I know that there is a small settlement called Ivarstead, in the Rift, west of Riften," Balgruuf explained, "That was where I remember starting, anyway..."

"Then... that's where I'll go..." the woman said. She started to turn around, but the Jarl's upheld hand stopped her.

"Wait, before you leave, I feel I'm... honor-bound to reward you for all you've done for me and my city, Dragonborn." Jarl Balgruuf re-postured himself, standing with his back straight, his face hardened, and overall projecting his air of authority that all of Whiterun has known him to be able to do with ease, "By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun! It's the greatest title that is within my power to grant."

Balgruuf's declaration is met again with surprise from both women, however both of them show completely different levels of their own. The woman's face more so shows confusion, while Lydia's face betrayed surprise, astonishment, and... disappointment. The Jarl-granted title of Thane was an honor, of the highest degree! She had strove her entire life to achieve such a role, and had nearly beamed when the opportunity first arose from hearing there was room in the Jarl's court for a new one!

And just like that, it passed her by.

"J-Jarl Balgruuf...?" Lydia managed to breathe out.

"A... thane...?" the woman asked.

"I admit, it's an honorary title mainly," Balgruuf said, "But like I said, consider it a gift for the great service you've done for me-"

"It's not fair..." Lydia uttered. The other two glanced in her direction. Lydia's lips twitched, and her eyes were downcast, "My Jarl, you yourself assured me that I would be your Thane someday...!" The Jarl's smile quickly faded, and the woman's look of confusion returned, followed by one of guilt.

"Dragonborn," Balgruuf said, "Would you mind stepping away? I need a moment to speak with Lydia alone." The woman held pleading eyes, looking back and forth between Balgruuf softly expressive face and Lydia hardened one. With a sigh, she walked towards the staircase that led to the lower level and its entry hall, while Balgruuf motioned for Lydia to follow him. The housecarl warrior followed him, all the way around the corner and well out of visual range of where the woman waited.

Satisfied and confident she could neither hear nor see them, Jarl Balgruuf stopped moving.

"Lydia... I understand you being upset, and yes, I did assure you years ago that you would be-"

"Then my Jarl, why?" Lydia demanded, completely forgetting her reservations involved when speaking to her Jarl, "My whole life I dedicated to your service! Becoming your Thane and serving you better was the greatest way I could repay back my debt to you! I've worked for days and days on end for this chance!" She stopped briefly to catch her breath, "So why? Why would you not only deny me this, but pass it on to someone else entirely?!"

"Because Lydia," Balgruuf sternly cut in, "In a sense, I'm not entirely denying you a chance." Lydia's face of frustration fades into one of her own confusion, "Lydia Volrun, I would formally reassign you... to be 'her' personal housecarl." Balgruuf pointed a finger past her and towards the direction the Dragonborn was waiting. Lydia's head turned around to face where he pointed, and she looked back at him, her look of frustration had returned.

"My Jarl... surely you jest..." she said.

"I assure you, this is no jest," Balgruuf placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder, "Lydia, I know that you've aspired to become a personal protector, same as Irileth. But I also know you've been longing to see more of the world beyond what and where I simply command you to go."

"What?" Lydia said. Had she really made it 'that' obvious?

"Please Lydia, I'm not stupid," Balgruuf continued, "It's not that hard to see... I can tell, child, you need this, you've wanted this, even. And serving as bodyguard companion for an actual Dragonborn? I would daresay that trumps my own grandeur!"

"Jarl Balgruuf..." Lydia had to admit, Balgruuf's input was sound. As much as she's enjoyed living in Whiterun, serving Jarl Balgruuf as a reliable sword and shield, or even tending to his subjects, Skyrim was a huge land, far bigger than the hold of Whiterun alone...

Mentally speaking of sword and shield brought Lydia's mind, and her hand, back to the bundle wrap, and she frowned. There was still this big issue; her sword. She could feel its edges through the thick cloth against her finger tips. The situation itself was humiliating for her, as would be the actual explanation to the Jarl... But, if he was serious about all this, then it would have to be addressed.

Steeling herself, she gripped the bundle wrap in her hand and held it out before herself, and to Balgruuf.

"But, there is something..." Lydia tried to muster the words, "The truth is... I was next to useless in the fight with the dragon!"

"What do you mean? What is this?" Balgruuf took the bundle from Lydia and placed it on the table. He unwrapped it, revealing the four pieces of the sword Lydia took great pride in wielding.

"My sword..." Lydia said, "That beast broke it like it was nothing!" There it was, she present her case at its most basic form. Should she add anything else to it? Did anything else need to be said? How was Balgruuf going to react? He had his back turned to her so she couldn't quite see his face-

"Is this all?" Lydia blinked. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. Balgruuf turned to face her again, his face bearing no anger, no disappointment, not any sort of displeasure. He actually seemed... relieved? "Lydia, I'm not blaming you. In fact, I'm actually happy that this was the worst of it!"

"My Jarl?"

"And you can't blame yourself for this either," the man said, "Remember, you were fighting a dragon! How often can one say they not only saw one of these legendary creatures, but actually fought one and lived to tell about it?" Lydia's lips pursed slightly and her eyes narrowed in thought. This was all true.

"As for this? Well..." Balgruuf continued, "Lydia... I believe the time has come."

"The... time?" Lydia asked. Balgruuf simply stepped away from her and towards the wall, where a display case stood against it. He reached into his robe pocket and retrieved a copper key, inserted it into the keyhole, and opened the display. Slowly, he reached in and pulled forth what had been on display: a bastard sword, while held in one hand left just enough room open on the hilt to allow for two hands to be able to grip it. Balgruuf took a moment to stare into the weapon, his own reflection in the sword's blade staring back at him. Finally, he took the sword and placed it into its separate sheath and returned to his housecarl.

Lydia watched with uncertainty at first, then was almost floored by what was happening, and what this would mean for her. There was no way, no way in all the nine holds that this could actually be true!

"Lydia, I would gift this to you," Jarl Balgruuf spoke, though differently from before. Whereas he had spoken to the woman with openly vocal appreciation, this time he spoke with more quiet and reserved respect. Holding the sheathed weapon upon his two hands, he held it forth before Lydia. Her hands unconsciously reached for the blade, until she quickly stopped herself.

"My Jarl..." she shook her head of wonder. This was really happening; Jarl Balgruuf was giving her 'his' sword! The very blade he'd carried with him into battle during the Great War! "This... it's too much! I couldn't possibly accept this."

"Please Lydia, you'd be doing me a great personal service if you did," Balgruuf insisted. Lydia's hands reached back for the sheathed blade. Her fingers wrapped around its width, the sturdy resistance she felt in her grip felt like a hidden strength from an age long past. She suddenly felt his hands over hers, letting her know to look back up at him, "Remember, a blade like this is only as worthy as the one who wields it. You've become a splendid warrior in my eyes, and you will only continue to get stronger." He released his hands, and Lydia brought the sheathed weapon closer to her. Looking closer at it, the sigil for Whiterun's horse could be seen stitched into the cloth near the pommel and handle section. With renewed vigor, she fastened the sheath's holding string to her waist from her armor.

"I promise you, Jarl Balgruuf, I will not let you down!" she said, "I'll prove myself worthy of your weapon!"

"It is 'your' weapon now," Balgruuf reminded her, "I'm more than happy to part with that thing. Still, it's good to hear your strong conviction. I can assume you feel the same about serving 'her' as well?" His subtle point in the direction of where the woman was waiting brought Lydia's mind back to that issue. Being assigned housecarl to... a Dragonborn? While she hadn't ever heard of such a person, title nor individual in the past, she herself 'had' demonstrated qualities of someone to bodyguard. She showed courage, strength, a will to rally to a cause, and was a warrior like her!

As for her speech? Or less than adequate display of it? Well... perhaps that would take getting used to. Lydia nodded her head.

"Yes my Jarl," she said, "If you think this is best, I will guard her and all she owns with my life."

"Excellent, then let's not keep her waiting any longer." Balgruuf and Lydia moved back around the corner back to the open chamber. Thankfully, the woman could still be seen, sitting down at the top of the stairs, appearing to be deep in thought. At the sound of their footsteps, she quickly perked up and pulled herself to her feet.

"I'm... sorry... I didn't, mean to-" she frantically whispered, until Lydia's outstretched hand silenced her.

"Jarl Balgruuf has appointed me to be your housecarl," she said, "It... would be an honor to serve you." The woman calmed herself slightly.

"W-what?" she whispered, "Serve me?"

"That's correct, Dragonborn," Balgruuf answered, "I thought it appropriate to assign Lydia to you. You may be Dragonborn, a hero of song and legend, but you are still one woman, and where ever your journey may take you, I sincerely doubt you can go it alone. Remember: A Nord's strength lies not in that of their own arm..."

"But combined with... their companion's... who has their back." The woman's eyes widened as she finished. She had not heard that old Nordic proverb in years! Her lips pursed into a smile, and she nodded.

"Th-thank you..." she uttered. She looked into Lydia's eyes. No longer did she see the frustration on her face from a moment ago. This time, there was a sense of renewed purpose about her. She also held a slight smile on her face, and her hand could be seen cupping the hilt of a sword- Wait, a new sword? In her mind she began to see: Balgruuf must have given her a new sword to replace the one that she had lost! That was why she was looking much better!

"Before you go, I would grant you something else," Balgruuf reached down to his own belt and drew forth a small sack, the familiar sound of jingling coins caused the two women to perk up, "A more, tangible, token of my personal appreciation." He held the coin sack to the woman, who then took it in her hands. The moment she gripped it, she was amazed by how solid and heavy it felt! There must have been at least one hundred gold coins in it! "That there should be more than enough for a quick night's rest at the Bannered Mare, and maybe even a carriage ride to Ivarstead."

"You... keep doing... so much... for me..." the woman uttered, "How could... I ever-"

"Nonsense," Balgruuf dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Consider that a personal gift, for ensuring Whiterun lives to see another day." At this, the two women nodded their heads in appreciation. Lydia crossed her fist over her chest to salute the Jarl, prompting the woman to hastily do the same.

"My Jarl, the two of us shall be on our way then," Lydia said. Balgruuf himself nodded. The women turned to walk down the stairs, but Balgruuf suddenly remembered something; something admittedly was too important to simply forget!

"Wait!" he suddenly called out, stopping the two in their tracks, "I, ah... I'm embarrassed to admit, but all this time... I never asked you before: What is your name is, Dragonborn?" Lydia blinked as well. Incredible! How had she also gone this entire time not even thinking to ask what this woman's very name was?! And considering she herself had chastised her for lack of speech earlier today? How shameful...

Hopefully the woman would think nothing of that as Lydia turned to face her.

"My... name...?" she whispered, to which Balgruuf, and Lydia, nodded, "I... m-my name... is... Si-... Sif... Sif...fre... Siffre" Jarl Balgruuf's smile returned, and even Lydia sported one as well. Satisfied with the response, Siffre turned and walked down the stairs, Lydia following right behind her.

Jarl Balgruuf returned to standing before the planning table. He would be expecting a more detailed report of the dragon incident from Irileth when she returned. Gods, such a strange prospect; dragons returning to do who knows what to Skyrim? That in itself brought forth another thought: were there more of them? Just how many more out there, waiting to spell doom for its people? Skyrim was already bleeding from this damned Civil War...

Another night would be spent making plans, he supposed. A Dragonborn may have appeared, but he was not about to stand idly by in wait for these terrors. So much to do, so little time.

'Gods be with us,' he thought, 'All of us...'

* * *

-One thing I really loved from writing this story? Coming up with a last name for Lydia. The Dragonborn's name I'd already had in mind since that's the of character I always create when starting new games. But Lydia was always without a last name, so I saw fit to give her one, and in keeping with Nord tradition, a variation of an actual Norse figure (the Valkyrie Olrun).

And there we go! Like I said before, thanks to everyone for the recognition you're giving this story! I don't know where all y'all came from, but I'm sure glad you're here! If you're willing to keep sticking around more, I've got quite the adventure planned for Lydia and Siffre!-


	3. Chapter 3

-And here we are, next chapter. As usual, I personally don't own the rights to Elder Scrolls 5 Skyrim, but I suppose what I do own is my own version of Dragonborn that I'm allowed to make... if that makes any sense...-

* * *

The door creaked open and the two women stepped inside, Almost immediately, they were bombarded by a plethora of scents and fragrants. Some scents their noses found pleasing, like sweetness and savory, others... reeked. Such was the Bannered Mare, a down-to-Nirn place where one could go for a good mug of ale.

At this time, while the dark of night was still illuminated by the moon in the sky, the inside's warm glow of the central fireplace felt more prominent. The entire room was bathed in a gentle glow and warmth. It set a very soothing atmosphere on its own, even without its patrons. There was also the pleasing sound of a lute, a gentle chirp of a tune being played by the local tavern bard, Mikael.

Speaking of patrons, Lydia and Siffre entered to find a number of people, calmly relaxing in different ways. There was peaceful, yet boisterous chatter between them, some even laughing at jokes. No matter what they were doing, their spirits were at ease, thanks to the steady flow of ale provided for them.

It was a common sight for Lydia, as she knew everyone here. Having grown up in Whiterun gave her ample time to learn everyone by face and name, as well as the type of person they were, for the most part. Glancing to her side at Siffre however, told a different story. The blonde Nord was nervous, looking all around at this place, a nervous twitch in her hands. Anxiety was ever present on her face. Hadn't she ever been in a tavern before? Well... with the way she was... maybe that was understandable.

"Housecarl Lydia? Welcome!" a voice rang out across the room. The two women looked to see the barkeep, Hulda, waving them over, "This is a surprise... Come on in, take a seat and I'll send someone over." With a nod of thanks, Lydia moved forward, Siffre right behind her. While the noise of the patrons persisted the same as before, a few of them were glancing over in their direction. She herself was used to the stares by now, having performed her duties before them countless times. Her being in their presence no longer felt... intimidating, nor embarrassing anymore. She was comfortable with them, as they were with her.

Around the central fireplace were sets of benches. Lydia and Siffre took seats at one of them, side by side, setting down their shields. They both then began to remove the armored gauntlets covering their arms. With relieved sighs, their now exposed arms could be rubbed of any soreness that the battle with the dragon had caused them.

"Good evening Lydia, what can I get for you?" the housecarl turned to her side to see Saadia, the dark-skinned Redguard barmaid, waiting for her expectedly.

"Hm, some bread, and mug of ale," Lydia said.

"Of course," Saadia said, then looked over at Siffre, "And what would you like?" Siffre looked up at Saadia's waiting face, her eyes briefly twitching down in thought then looked back at her.

"Um... the same..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" the barmaid leaned in a little.

"The same..." Siffre tried to whisper a little louder. Saadia's eyes narrowed.

"I could't hear you, could you please speak up-"

"My Thane says she'd like the same as I," Lydia spoke up. Her response earned Saadia a look towards Siffre, yet still prompted her to move back.

"Very well then, I'll just-" she said, then stopped as she realized something, "Wait a moment, did you say your Thane?"

"That's... correct," Lydia replied. At this, Saadia's expression softened greatly.

"Oh, forgive me housecarl! I hadn't realized..." she stammered, "I-I'll get you those things right away!" Before Lydia could say anything, the Redguard had already left for the kitchen area. Slowly, she looked back to Siffre, who shook her head in dismissal.

"Ah, Lydia! Fancy seeing you hear!" the housecarl turned to the direction of the boisterous voice. The armored Uthgerd was making her way towards her, mug of ale in one hand and a smile on her face. Lydia returned hers with a smaller smile of her own, "Can I join you?"

"Uthgerd! Of course!" Lydia said, motioning to the open seat perpendicular to her left side. The plate-armored nord woman took her seat, then clapped Lydia's shoulder.

"I'd say you deserve a drink in your name!" she said, "For going blade to tooth against a monster of legend!"

"Huh? The dragon?" Lydia said, mildly confused. They'd only just gotten back, hadn't they? "How did you know...?"

"Are you kidding? Word travels fast throughout the guard, and thus, throughout the whole of Whiterun!" Uthgerd paused to take a quick swig from her mug, "How I wish I could've been there myself, to stare that beast down let it see the gleam in my..." Lydia listened on, letting the female Nord carry on. She was... amusing, to listen to, and even at times fun. She was the type of person who could blow out just enough bluster as the damage she could deal through her arms and her blades. It's earned her plenty of scars and glory from battles, but at the same time a fair amount of trouble. Sometimes her hot-headed attitude required a great deal of temperament. After all, it was the whole reason that had caused the Companions to expel her, all for that alleged 'accident'.

During her talking Saadia had walked back out to Lydia and Siffre with their mugs and two halves of bread. The blonde took a sip from her mug, Lydia did the same, both savoring the bitter taste as it began to warm them up from within.

"Of course, that's not all being talked about..." Uthgerd's voice suddenly went softer. and she looked back in Lydia and Siffre's direction, "There's been talk that... a Dragonborn is here!"

"A... Dragonborn?" Lydia questioned. She was about to speak further until a thought occurred to her; Uthgerd mentioned the Dragonborn, but she didn't look at Siffre directly. It was almost as if... she didn't know right away about what her Thane really was! Was this right? wasn't this supposed to be common knowledge?

She looked over to her Thane, who was gingerly biting into her bread chunk. She looked up when she noticed her follower's gaze upon her.

"My Thane, they clearly don't know, but... should they?" Lydia asked. Siffre's narrowed, and she looked away for a moment. Looking back at her, she gave a simple shake of the head, her answer simple enough.

No? She didn't want others to know she was Dragonborn? Why in all the Holds not? All the glory to be had to one with such a powerful title... and all of its negatives. Maybe others would get jealous? Resentful that this gift of power was granted to someone else? Or even, what if someone were to try and usurp this power from Siffre to themselves? Was that even possible?

Whatever the case, Siffre had non-verbally made her point, and Lydia was to abide by it.

"A Dragonborn, Uthgerd?" Lydia asked, with skepticism in her voice, "Surely that's a mistake. Are you sure this wasn't something an injured guard would think up in a delirious state? In fact, Hergi himself was heavily injured from the battle..."

"Hergi, by the Gods, I saw what happened to him..." the armored Nord woman said out of sympathy, "Those legs of his, broken as they were... And now that you mention it, he was sounding a little crazy..." Uthgerd ceased her thought by completely downing the last of her ale in one last gulp, "Ah whatever the case may be; A glorious battle indeed, and I for one do not plan to miss out on any more! If the Companions won't have me, sod them! Now that I know there is greater battles out there!"

"That's great, Uthgerd, and in fact, might even be necessary..." Lydia said, "You see, I have been asked to leave the city on an... assignment."

"You? Leaving Whiterun?" Uthgerd asked.

"Right, for..." Lydia glanced quickly in Siffre's direction, "An... escort mission, appointed to me by Jarl Balgruuf himself." Uthgerd followed Lydia's glance to the side towards Siffre. The quieter Nord had watched and listened on to this whole exchange, but was nonetheless slightly self-conscious when the attention was shifted to her, from a stranger no less. She mustered up a single nod, hoping it would be a satisfactory reply.

"Hm, never seen this one before," she noted, turning to Lydia, "Must be important if you've been assigned to protect someone. This was what you were working and training for, isn't it?" Lydia nodded in response. "Well, may the gods watch over your battles friend!" One more heavy swig from her own mug silenced any further prodding, much to Siffre's, and Lydia's, relief.

The rest of the evening went on in relative peace. The two ladies continued to sit beside the fire, sipping from their own mugs of ale, and casually listening to Uthgerd's continued boasting. Eventually, the armored Nord grew weary herself, or she had run out of ale... whichever reason, she got up from her seat and let the two women be.

The surrounding atmosphere of the tavern seemed to mirror Uthgerd as well. The noise was beginning to die down as more patrons were leaving to turn in for the night.

"If it's alright, my Thane," Lydia said herself, "I'll purchase us a room for the evening?" Siffre nodded in agreement, and Lydia lifted herself from her seat to move in front of Hulda.

"Housecarl Lydia," the innkeeper said, "You'll be renting a room this evening?"

"Yes," Lydia said, reaching back and fetching forth a handful of ten coins to place on the bar top, "What rooms do you have available?"

"A room for two? Hmmm," Hulda said, gathering the coins in front of her, "I believe the room we have available only has one bed... It is a fairly large bed, but... this won't be a problem, will it?"

"No um, I don't think that'll be much problem..." Lydia said, hardly giving that last issue much thought.

"Very well, the room is just up those stairs and to your right," Hulda pointed out to the corner of the tavern interior where a set of stairs led upwards, "And let me or Saadia know if there is anything else you need." Lydia nodded, then turned around to relay this to Siffre. The silent Nord however was already lifting herself from her seat and moving to rejoin her. Perhaps Lydia hadn't needed to tell her what just happened, being how she was standing literally behind her while she had spoken with Hulda.

The face that met hers was one of acknowledgement as well. The two women picked up their shields and gauntlets, then made their way towards the stairs, Lydia leading the way. Unlike the previous stairs they had traveled up within Dragonsreach, these steps creaked with every step they took. It made sense, these were made of nothing more than sturdy wood, while Dragonsreach's steps were of solid stone. But the wooden stairs more then held their frame as the two women climbed them, finally reaching the top. They turned to the right and through the closed door, into the room they would be staying in: a small room with a two chair table in the corner, and a single bed that was big enough for two.

"Oh..." Siffre whispered, "One bed..."

"Hulda did mention this, my Thane..." Lydia said, turning to Siffre, "I'm sorry, um... I would be more than happy to find somewhere else to sleep while you take this-"

"It's fine..." Siffre held her hands in front of her, "I'm not... really tired... just yet..." With that, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and set to work on removing her armored boots from her feet. Seeing this, Lydia was reminded of the soreness in her own feet. She took a seat in one of the table's chairs and began to peel her steel-armored boots off. While they did provide much needed protection against the outside forces, their interiors left much to be desired. The chafing against the backs of her calves could be so irritating at times!

One at a time, her calves were practically screaming with relief when they were freed to the open air, out of the confines of those cursed boots! She placed her foot-wrapped feet upon the wooden ground. A tender soreness crawled up her legs upon initial contact, but Lydia was used to that by now.

Looking up, she saw that Siffre was still struggling to remove her own armored boots from her feet. Her progress in comparison was slower... in fact, she was struggling so much she hadn't been able to work off the first one! Lydia's eyes narrowed, in mild confusion. How was she having such trouble removing them? It wasn't that hard, how did she even get into them?

Thankfully, what was coursing through her mind she was careful not to accidentally convey into words. Instead, after a moment of Siffre's continued struggles, Lydia removed herself from her chair and knelt down in front of her Thane. She reached out towards the securing buckles, while Siffre suddenly ceased her movements in response.

"Huh...? What are-?" she whispered.

"You looked like you were having trouble, my Thane," Lydia said. Siffre did not make any movements indicating Lydia to stop. In fact, she kept her feet still, encouraging the housecarl to proceed with this task she'd taken upon herself. She could quickly see why this might have been difficult- the outer straps were hastily buckled instead of properly, which made pulling them apart that much tougher. Fortunately, Lydia's calloused fingers worked hard to finally loosen the straps on both boots to eventually allow Siffre to free her own feet.

"Ah... thanks..." she softly said.

"Of course, my-" Lydia started, but was cut off by the sight of her Thane's feet. They were covered in blisters, with some even breaking open! Lydia felt something rising in the back of her throat, but quickly suppressed the urge as best as she could, "My Thane! Your feet!"

"Huh?" Siffre looked down, and her eyes widened in shock by what she saw as well, "Oh-!" Her sudden surprise caused her tone of voice to unintentionally rise sharply, and the air before them vibrated before she clamped her hand over her mouth.

"Why don't you have foot-wraps on underneath?" Lydia asked.

"What? Foot-wraps?" Siffre asked, careful to ask much quieter this time.

"Yes, they're worn underneath boots to keep blisters like this from happening!" Lydia explained.

"I... I didn't-"

"Well, no matter; wait here," Lydia commanded. She pulled herself to her feet and moved back over to the table she had been sitting at. There was a small pitcher of water and a small handheld basin resting upon it. She picked both items up in both hands and returned to kneeling at Siffre's feet, "Now, put your feet in this basin."

Siffre did as she was told, and Lydia gently poured a stream of water from the pitcher over her feet. The quiet Nord woman let out a gentle sigh as the cool liquid cascaded over her feet. Lydia poured liberally, making sure to cover as much of the feet as she could. After a moment she ceased pouring, set the pitcher down on the ground, and using her own two hands rubbed her Thane's now wet feet. Siffre's eyes by now were widened.

"Lydia?!" she said, struggling to keep her personal volume lowered despite her shock, "Y-you don't... have to-"

"My Thane, this must be done," Lydia insisted, keeping her head looking down at where she worked, "I shudder to think what would happen had these blisters gone uncleaned..." Her hands rubbed hard, wiping away all moisture as possible from the feet. By the time she finished, her Thane's feet were no longer riddled with unsightly blisters, but they could've looked better overall.

Picking herself up, Lydia made her way to the small shelf on the wall opposite the table she sat at.

"Now let me see... ah! Here we are..." Her hand hovered over the many shelves until it found what she searched for: a small vial of ointment. As she was about to turn back, her eyes caught sight of something else: a set of cloth wraps, very similar to the ones she had herself! "Oh, even better!" Quickly grabbing them, she knelt back down to Siffre's feet. She opened the vial, coated her palms with the bitter smelling substance, and began to rub it over Siffre's blistered feet.

Siffre hissed in pain, the ointment stinging every blister it came into contact with. The feeling of pain soon passed, or maybe she grew used to it, even as Lydia continued to work. Eventually she finished her application, and she stood back up, taking the pitcher and basin with her back to the table. Siffre looked down at her feet, her now blister-free feet.

"Um... thank you..." she whispered.

"Of course, my Thane," Lydia replied, washing her own hands in the basin.

"But... why? Why did you... do that?" Siffre quietly asked. This question earned her a look from her housecarl.

"Were you really expecting to proceed on your journey with the state your feet were just in?" Lydia asked, "It was like I said, they had to be-"

"No, I mean..." Siffre cut in, while trying to find the right words, "Why did... 'you'... do that?" Lydia spared her a glance, one that lasted a handful of seconds.

"As my Thane, I am sworn to your service, in addition to your well-being," Lydia said, drying her hands off with a towel, "How could I not take it upon me to make sure you were in peak condition?"

"Oh..." Siffre said silently. Lydia finished drying her hands and took a seat in the table's chair. The two women were now sitting down, positioned so that they were facing each other even with the great space between them, "Well... I'm grateful... I just- well, I thought you..."

As Siffre struggled to silently complete her sentence, Lydia had a vague idea of what she was getting at. It was true they had not gotten along on the best of terms when they'd first met. In fact, the housecarl was almost certain it would've come to blows between them. And for what? The fact that Siffre wasn't as adept at basic speech?

"Jealousy, isn't it? That you were granted boons that I myself desired?" Lydia asked, causing Siffre's eyes to meet hers. She simply nodded, "I won't deny it... a part of me does feel... envious..." The housecarl sighed, "But, you needn't worry so much about that, what Jarl Balgruuf decreed. I... respect my Jarl a great deal, and if he believes granting you the title of Thane and appointing myself as your housecarl, I will defer to his judgement.* The more Lydia spoke, the more relaxed and confident she relayed her words to Siffre. The quieter Nord relaxed her own posture after realizing she had been tensing her shoulders up without even realizing it.

"The Jarl..." she quietly said, "He must mean... a lot to you..."

"Balgruuf?" Lydia said, "He's the Jarl of Whiterun! A good man, strong, wise, firm..." her words trailed as memories suddenly crept up into her mind.

A little girl, standing in a massive hall, where only Jarls, lords, and nobles were allowed to stand within. Two guards on either side, to preventing this little... urchin, from escaping. This was a great-hall after all, with plenty of things someone like her could be accused of stealing as well. And in front of her, a man stood, looking down upon her, while behind him the very skull of some scary creature looking down upon him.

The intimidation was almost too much to bear, and the girl found herself cowering in fear. But while the skull itself was an unchanging image of fear, the man's face was stone-faced and neutral, yet still judging all at once. Then in a single motion, his lips slowly curled up into a simple smile, and he extended a hand down to her...

Lydia shook her head from her thoughts.

"All the years I've known him, Balgruuf has always been... fair in his judgments... like he's always had a grand plan in mind."

"Grand plan..." Siffre noted quietly, "Do you... do you think it's why... he had you come with me...?" Lydia blinked and looked at her. Was this some grand plan in the making for a housecarl like her to be assigned to protect someone who was not her Jarl? And on a journey that would no doubt take her out of Whiterun hold? What was really to happen to her?

Well, whatever it was, Jarl Balgruuf continued to display his utmost faith in her and her abilities.

"Perhaps..." Lydia said. Siffre was silent for a few moments. Not because of her usual reluctance to speak, but because of her own thoughts she mentally sifted through.

"You know..." she quietly said, "All my life... I was... by myself..." Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Because of...?" she subtly gestured to her own throat, hoping she wouldn't need to say anything further. Thankfully, Siffre understood her meaning and nodded.

"And now... suddenly... I can talk?" Siffre continued, "And I'm also... Dragonborn?" She placed her hands on her knees as she looked down, eyes wide open, staring straight down at the ground, and sighed, "Is... this right? Was this... meant to happen... to me...?" Lydia's eyes softened as she heard her quiet Thane's confession. In this moment, she did not see an immortal hero of some ancient song or legend; she saw a woman, a woman with fear, uncertainty... but maybe a tiny sliver of hope? Very human traits, displayed by this initially mute woman, sitting before her.

"I admit, my Thane, the chances of everything happening as they have occurred have been... insane," Lydia said, "A dragon threatening Whiterun, you being able to Shout, and speak even, and then a planned journey to the Greybeards atop the Throat of the World. All of this in a single day..." Lydia paused for a moment, then chuckled once, "It's... quite the discoveries! I think... I think I'd like this through, to the end even!" She looked at Siffre right in her eyes, "Which is why, as my Thane, I will stay by your side through every step of your journey!"

Siffre's eyes widened, yet again, at Lydia's declaration. Such a profound statement, all culminating in this person, someone she'd never met before in her life, wanting to help her. She was a warrior, but she had always been alone for most of her life, no one ever being at her back. Lydia was a housecarl whom the Jarl had assigned to her, but somehow, in this moment, the sincerity of her words spoke different volumes. Huh, volumes... There was something Siffre could be envious of herself...

Her surprise deepened when Lydia then extended an arm out towards her. Siffre looked at it, then finally understood its meaning. She reached out with her own arm, gripping hers at just below her elbow. The two women shook their hands, a partnership in the making. Each one felt a slightly tight grip from the other, prompting them to grip harder in return. Satisfied, the two released hold of the other.

It was at this moment that a yawn crept up through Siffre's throat.

"I think... I think I'm... tired now..." she whispered.

"Ah, alright then," Lydia said, pulling herself to her feet, "However, that still leaves the matter of... sleeping arrangements..." The two looked at the bed that Siffre currently sat on. The quiet Nord's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Um... I ah..." Siffre said, her speech impairment coupled with the context of the situation made it that much harder to convey her thoughts, "I... wouldn't really mind if..."

"My Thane... it's quite alright..." Lydia said, shaking her head, "I'm more than happy to find a suitable place elsewhere to sleep, and leave the bed to you."

"But-"

"And besides..." Lydia subtly pointed to Siffre's feet. The light-haired Nord looked down, and flushed with embarrassment as the realization came to her, "I believe you'd need more... space, for your feet to heal..."

"Oh..." Siffre said, "I... forgot..." She looked back up at Lydia, "But... where will you sleep?"

"You need not worry about me," Lydia said, gathering her gauntlets under one arm and taking her shield in her opposite hand, "I'm sure I can find a suitable place to sleep elsewhere in the inn."

"Ah..." As Lydia moved across the room towards the door, Siffre now took this time to try and remove the steel armor covering the upper half of her body. Lydia glanced out of the corner of her eye, then slowly came to a halt as she turned to Siffre completely. The silent Nord was again taking longer than usual in this simple act of removing one's armor, as shown by the fidgeting fingers and the grimace of frustration on her face.

On Lydia's face, the corner of her mouth curled up slightly.

"My Thane..." she said, moving in. Siffre stopped what she was doing as she looked up, watching as Lydia set her armored items on the bed and reached her own hands to the side-straps. In a much shorter amount of time, Lydia had both straps loosened, "How did you manage to almost run the straps through? You've tightened them so hard they're-"

"I'm sorry..." Siffre whispered, "It's just... this wasn't... my armor..." Lydia stopped her movements and looked at her in response to that statement.

"What? Not your armor?"

"No..."

"Then... are you saying it's stolen?" Lydia asked. Did she just admit to her an act of thievery?

"No!" Siffre's surprised voice accidentally slipped upward again, causing small vibrations in the air. Her hands rushed to her mouth, but didn't cover it this time, "I-I mean... it was a bandit's... I took it off her..." Lydia's tension relaxed a bit from that confession. That was... almost relieving to hear, if nothing else that someone she was assigned to was not hiding some 'undesirable tendencies'. Still, armor lifted from a bandit? From all she know of them, they rarely were seen alone or individually, which meant that this armor had to be fought for...

Cautiously, she returned her hands to the side-straps and fully loosened them. After both were undone, the armor itself was free to fall apart into two halves, one covering her back, the other covering her front and bust. Siffre let out a noticeable deep breath of air after being freed from her armored prison. Underneath she wore a simple tan tunic. Well, at the very least, she knew to wear under-clothing beneath this armor to prevent chafing in more... sensitive places.

Speaking of sensitive places, a set of scars were noticed along Siffre's upper shoulders that disappeared beneath her tunic. They appeared to be... recent. Siffre's eyes glanced up at Lydia, then just as quickly her head spun away, shifting her body in the process.

"Th-thank you..." she quickly said, "I... maybe you're right... about me in this bed... alone..." She quickly gathered the armor halves, holding them tight to herself, "But... are you sure... you don't mind...?"

"I don't mind at all," Lydia said, "I will be close by if you need anything." She reached for the doorknob and pulled it open, yet hesitated when she looked back at Siffre one more time.

"Ah..." Siffre whispered, "well... bye..."

"Good evening, my Thane," Lydia said, and finally left the room, closing the door behind her. Gauntlets and shield in hand, she made her way down the steps again. She reached around the halfway point of the steps when lingering doubts began to creep up; was what she did the right thing to do? She was a bodyguard for this person, so was it the correct thing to leave them in a room by themselves? In that moment, her thoughts drifted to Irileth, and what she would say.

'Threats to the Jarl are ever present, but are no more closer to reaching him if I remain diligent and attentive,' she'd say.

'Really? That's all you have to be?' Lydia herself had asked.

'Well, there's that, in addition to facts themselves,' the dark elf continued, 'For example, alone in a room, any assassin could enter it through an unlocked door, a window, or a hidden crawlspace. That's why, I have to have intimate knowledge of the room's layout that he will be in. The worst thing that could happen is not only that an assailant could get to him, but that I could be too slow in coming to his rescue...'

"It should be fine," Lydia said to herself, "Besides, there are only two doors in that room: that door leading to an overlooking balcony over the tavern area, and this door, which is the only way in or out. There weren't any windows, and the room is on the upper level. Anyone that tries to get to her, they'll definitely be seen first..."

Coming off of the stairs she stepped back into the tavern area of the inn. Looking around, the place was completely empty of patrons, and the central fire was cooling down to mere embers by this point. In fact, the only other people were Saadia and Hulda, the former giving her a good evening nod before disappearing through to the kitchen. Hulda on the other hand was wiping off the bar's counter top when she noticed her approach.

"Housecarl Lydia? Was there something you needed?"

"Oh nothing really, Hulda," Lydia said, "It's just that, my Thane and I decided she would take the entirety of the bed in that room. I've only come wondering if there was some other bed...?"

"Oh, my apologies, housecarl," Hulda said, "That was the only room available, as well as the only bed. Usually only one person or two people agreeing to share the bed..." Hulda drifted off as she thought for a moment, "How about this: you can lay your head down on any table or on the bar counter?"

Lydia blinked, "Really? You'd allow that?"

"Of course, it's the least I can do!" the innkeeper said, "You can rest 'til the morning comes, and I won't bother you."

"Oh well, you have my thanks!" Lydia said with a smile. This was certainly convenient! With that she moved herself to the table along the wall on the same side as the bar stools. Taking a seat, she placed her shield down at her feet, and her gauntlets were laid on the table. The table had been cleared off before, so there was nothing else atop them to get in the way. Plenty of space open for both the gauntlets and room for her arms. She folded them on the table and laid her head upon them.

The moment she did, she could feel the weight of her fatigue pull at her even stronger. Gods, just how tired was she? This day has been filled with all manner of excitement, so perhaps now was when she'd be coming down from it.

One last yawn, and Lydia drifted off to sleep, the light from the central fire fading as well...

* * *

_She's running, and running for her life, terror gripping her very being. All around her, fire rages and stone structures are destroyed as if they were made of sand rather than rock._

_And the people... She tries not to, but she still glances at the ground to see corpses. Dead, charred bodies of people that only mere minutes ago, were very much alive! They were ruthlessly slaughtered here in this town!_

_And she herself was no better off, her hands still being bound in front of her. No means of defending herself, she might as well prepare to join them in death. Or rather, this was even worse than death; death for these people was a mercy, but she was still alive to witness it all unfold. Terror and destruction, on swift night wings..._

_A swooshing in the air, and she skidded to a halt. Slowly lifting her head up, she gazed upon it; the harbinger of death itself. She trembled, the fear that gripped her not allowing her any other sort of movement. All she could move were her eyes as they darted to every part of this... monster._

_The solid ash-black color, the scales so razor sharp their jaggedness almost appeared as if they were carved stones, sharpened claws on hind feet, a blunt yet pointed tail, two sets of wings that warped the very air around it with every powerful flap, the menacing horns perched on its head, rows and rows of razor sharp teeth..._

_But none of any of that compared to the eyes. By the Gods, those EYES! Purely blood-red and brightly glowing! Eyes that could very well bore into anything it looked upon. Eyes full of greed, hunger, power, hatred, condescending, a sense of authority? Eyes that judged all they looked upon as well beneath it. Eyes that gazed upon her this very moment..._

_The creature's maw slowly opens, and suddenly she discovers her own mouth was opening! What was happening? She wasn't doing this on her own! She tries to close her mouth, but like her inability to speak, she has no physical control over her own mouth! She watches as suddenly rays of light flow out of her mouth, straight up into the air, and into the maw of the creature! What was happening? And why was she feeling... weaker...? What should she do? She had to do something, but what?!_

_The corners of her lips tremble and she feels her throat within. She tries with all her might to do something! She had to, this ray of light flowing out of her was growing more concentrated! The creature's unfazed face continued to watch down upon her as the light flowed into its own maw._

_She tries... tries... tries, to push the air through her throat... she had to try-!_

**"FUS!"**

In a single motion, Siffre shot herself forward as the air before her vibrated. As if a great wind had broken into her room and thundered the very air around her.

She panted, a cold sweat pouring down her forehead and upper chest. Slowly glancing around her, she could see from her surroundings that she was in a room, in a bed with sheets...

She wasn't 'there'...

A rhythmic thumping noise greeted her ears, and suddenly the door to the side burst open! On instinct, Siffre clutched the covers up to her chest. Someone had just broken in and would no doubt catch her in this vulnerable state! There was no way to hide, all that could be done was to at least see who the intruder was.

She gasped in slight relief when she saw that the intruder was in fact Lydia! She had burst in with sword and shield in hand, though still missing her armored gauntlets. Her eyes were widened and alert, then softened a little when the fell upon her.

"My Thane? Are you alright?! What happened?" Lydia asked, slightly lowering her arms after seeing for herself that they were the only ones present.

"Lydia..." Siffre started, then stopped herself when she realized her volume was again too high, "I-I'm fine..."

"I'd had heard that Shout just now..." the housecarl placed her sword back into its sheath, "I had assumed the worst..." No longer in a protective mode, Lydia took a moment to notice that Siffre was still concealing herself beneath the covers, "I... I can only assume... you had some nightmare?" Her forward question put Siffre off-guard, but thankfully she appeared not to press the inquiry further. Siffre simply nodded.

"Ah, I understand... Well, do you require... any sort of food or drink, right now?"

"Um... no, no I don't think so..." Siffre said, "I'd like... to sleep again..."

"O-of course, I will let you do that," Lydia agreed, reaching for the doorknob, "I will be downstairs if you do need me, my Thane." Siffre nodded and the door closed behind Lydia. Alone again, Siffre brought her back down onto the bed and her head onto the pillow. Unfortunately, the pillow being re-fluffed just now did little to stifle the now constant worry brewing within her.

That dream, it felt so vivid, and real! As if she was actually there! But that was what terrified her the most. That dream, that recounting of a great disaster in her own life... it was no nightmare of the mind; it was a memory, of something that had happened.

And now a new fear began to take seed within her: That it could happen again...

* * *

-And done! Admittedly, a little slower paced compared to what I've written, but I still think I did good in conveying the characters! But, let me know what you all think; as usual, views and feedback are always appreciated, and I'll see you all with the next chapter!-


	4. Chapter 4

-Before we get into this, I'd like to acknowledge reviewer GLaDOS-01 for pointing out a flaw in my design: it's true, if you were to wear that kind of steel armor in real life, it'd be almost impossible to actually bend yourself over forward, much less rest your head down on any table! I think at the time I was operating by Oblivion armor designs, where central armor pieces were divided into upper chest-plates and lower greaves. Nonetheless, thank's for pointing out that oopsie!

And with that out of the way, enjoy the next chapter!-

* * *

Lydia opened her eyes, thankfully not to any sort of thunder within the inn practically shocking her awake. This time she woke of her own accord. Slowly she raised her head off of her folded arms, an imprint left on both of them and on her forehead. Through the light shining in through the nearby windows, it was definitely morning by now.

Looking around, the inside of the inn was still empty. Not even Hulda nor Saadia had woken up yet it seemed. However, a simple twitch from her head was enough to bring about a host of muscle stiffness all throughout her upper body. Her neck, her upper back, her shoulders, even her arms were sore! She groaned as she rubbed her shoulders, then looked around one more time. With no one else immediately present, Lydia felt a little free for getting the blood flowing through her body again.

She stood to her feet, a great yawn escaping through her mouth. She tugged and stretched on her arms and bent her back forward and backward as much as could be allowed. Sleeping in a chair seemed convenient at the time, until one realized the stiffness that would follow the next morning. She hoped it would all be gone before long and not interfere with today. Maybe some sort of excitement would be in store to help her out with this!

Today; Gods, this was really going to happen, was it? A journey up to Skyrim's great mountain to meet with the wise Greybeards who summoned for the Dragonborn! This entire scenario felt like it was straight out of some storybook, yet it was happening in real life! And Lydia herself was a part of it, having been assigned as a Dragonborn's personal housecarl! Humbling would not even begin to describe her overall feelings!

On that note, after Lydia had finished with her moment of stretches, she looked up and out to the corner stairs leading to the room that Siffre was in. There was no sound to be heard from up there, and the door was still closed. It was getting early, and they'd need to get on their way while the time of day was agreeable. She set her feet to the ground, reveling one last time having her bare feet out to talk upon, before moving to slip them back into her armored boots. Her feet strapped in, she did the same with her gauntlets. Confidence filled her being along with her re-armoring herself, and she moved across the room.

She reached the base of the stairs and was about to make her ascent, when the creaking could be heard above. Looking up, the door to the room opened, and Siffre emerged. She turned and looked down to see Lydia, her eyes alert yet still held a little drowsiness in them.

"My Thane!" Lydia said, surprised, "I-I was just coming up for you. Good morning!"

"Ah... good morning-" Siffre whispered, her voice being drowned out by an unavoidable yawn. The Dragonborn made her descent, and Lydia stepped to the side to let her out and into the central room. From the looks of it, she had put her armored boots back on, but could only guess how effectively she'd strapped them on this time. Her gauntlets were also on, but to be fair looked more like they were strapped on better.

"So you're already dressed? Good," Lydia said, "How are your feet? Did you put the foot-wraps on underneath?"

Siffre nodded, "My feet... feel... better..."

"That's good to hear," Lydia said, "Then you're ready to depart from Whiterun?"

"I... well, um..." Siffre silently said, "That is... I'd like to eat first..."

"Ah, well you see..." Lydia directed her attention behind her, to the complete empty hall, "It looks like we're the first to wake up; Hulda and Saadia aren't around yet." She looked back at Siffre while at the same time pointing to a bowl containing a number of fruits within, "But, we can take some of those fruits there."

"Huh? But... won't we... need to pay...?" Siffre asked, but Lydia was already moving towards the fruit bowl.

"They're complimentary," Lydia assured her, reaching in and retrieving an apple, "I promise you it's not stealing; Hulda leaves them out, free of charge."

"Oh, alright..." With that, Siffre walked up to the counter top, reached towards the fruit bowl and pulled out a single apple. It was a pure, ruby-red in color, not a single spot of spoil to be found on it. She wasted no more time and took a single bite, the pleasing sound of the soft crunching filling both of their ears. As she chews, she finds herself looking up to meet Lydia's eyes, and she smiles.

Lydia returns the smile with her own, and she picks up her shield from the bottom of the table. She leads the two of them through the door and out of the Bannered Mare.

* * *

"Fresh baked cloves! Still warm from the oven!"

"Chops and steaks, fit for a Jarl! Come and see my selection of the finest quality meats!"

"Shiny trinkets for your good lady! All crafted by the great Eorlund Gray-mane himself!"

The two women exited the Inn and were greeted by the warmth of morning light, friendly vendors announcing their wares, and even smells of fresh foods on the breeze. Looking down, the townspeople in the market section of the Plains District were again going about their normal lives, as if there was never any threat of peril in the first place. Instead, they went about their daily routines, smiles gracing their faces.

The sight was enough for Lydia to smile at as well. As she and Siffre walked down the Inn's steps, it filled her with such content to see Whiterun's people in peace and safety. Especially now considering she would be leaving them for the time being. Off to the side, a man and a woman could be heard conversing.

"Ah, Ysolda is it? What brings you to the market?"

"I'm here to buy food, Nazeem; I suppose you don't need to worry about that," a red-haired Nord woman replied with slight irritation to the elegantly dressed Redguard noble, Nazeem.

"Owning a farm does have it's advantages..." Whatever followed in their conversation after, neither Lydia nor Siffre could hear it. And just like that, hearing the man's voice brought her smile down a little. If truth be told, she would not be missing 'everything' in Whiterun. There were certain things she was more than happy to get away from in this city.

"That man..." Siffre quietly noted, "I... remember him..."

"Who, Nazeem?" Lydia said.

"Yes... I, um... don't... like him..." Siffre's hesitation this time didn't sound like she was struggling to simply produce words like before, but more like she was struggling to find the correct phrasing.

"He is pompous, isn't he?" Lydia looked at Siffre with a tilted head. The quieter Nord returned her look, "You need not worry, my Thane; honestly, about half of Whiterun barely tolerates him. The way he looks down on us..."

"Ah yes... he did that... to me..." Siffre agreed.

"I'd say that farm he owns is about all he's good for..." Lydia trailed off as they continued to make their way to the gates. As they walked, Lydia glanced down at Siffre's feet, "So... how are your feet this morning?"

"My feet..." Siffre looked down at her boots, "They... they don't sting... as much... as last night..." She then looked up at Lydia, "Thank you... I mean... for that ointment..."

"Think nothing of it, my Thane," Lydia said, "If you're really to be climbing up mountains, at the very least your feet need to be looked after..." Her gaze drifted out past Whiterun's old walls and to the horizon. Even from where they were in the city, the Throat of the World could be seen in perfect clarity, stretching up to pierce the clouds themselves. Such a place like High Hrothgar to be located up there, upon the icy slopes of-

Wait a moment, up there? In the cold, and razor ice winds? Lydia looked back at Siffre.

"My Thane, wait; if you're really going up there," she pointed out to the mountain, "will that armor really be enough to keep you warm?" Her comment caused Siffre to look down at the steel armor she wore. It was wool-padding with a steel back-plate behind and a breast-plate to cover the front, and wool-padded greaves with plates of metal covering the legs. She looked all around at her armor, as if Lydia had pointed out some flaw in her apparel.

"Warm?" she quietly asked, "W-What do you mean? This... it's fine, isn't it?" Lydia blinked; she clearly had no idea.

"Hmm, you said that armor came from a bandit? I bet it doesn't have this..." Stopping for a moment she set her shield down at her feet. Siffre watched as Lydia reached one of her hands to her mid-arm, to the edge of the wool-padding, and undid a small tie on the outside. Once it was undone, the wool itself actually fell down the remaining length of her arm until it reached the edges of her gauntlet. Siffre's eyes widened at this display even as the housecarl demonstrated the same thing to the other side, "You see? Steel armor that can be used in the warm, and the cold."

"That's... that's really..." Siffre looked down at the wool edges on her arm, "I don't think... this one... has that..."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Lydia said, "Bandits tend to take whatever they can come across, but they've never been the type to innovate themselves, like a Hold's city guardsmen." She rolled up the wool 'sleeves' back up past the mid-point of her arm and redid the tie that held them up, and picked her shield back up, "So, that being said, maybe this is something that you can use yourself?" Siffre looked down at each mid-point of her arms, where the wool-padding ended. Now that attention was drawn to the subject, both women could see the obvious physical difference between the two's armors; Siffre's did not have rolled up sleeves like Lydia's at all. Whiterun outdoor weather at best had a light, barely noticeable nip of cold in the air, while the bright sun above kept everything reasonably warm. This armor Siffre wore probably had come from a bandit that frequented the more warmer regions of Skyrim, like Falkreath, Markarth, or even Solitude.

"If... if you think... it's best," Siffre settled, earning a nod of approval from Lydia.

"In that case, we can simply exchange your armor for the ideal kind at Warmaiden's; it's just on the way there," she pointed to a building off the the left side of the city's gates. A tanned woman in a blacksmith's apron could be seen around the corner hammering something on the workbench, each hammer strike echoed all the way down to their location. The two women made their way over, while at the same time finishing off their respective apples. The woman briefly stopped her work when she heard the dual footsteps approaching.

"Housecarl Lydia? Welcome!" she said, "What can I do for you?"

"Hello Adrianne," Lydia greeted, "We're in need of a new set of steel armor. Specifically, my set."

"Head on inside then, Ulfberth would no doubt have it in stock on our shelves." Lydia nodded in thanks, Adrianne resumed hammering, and with Lydia leading the way the two women entered Warmaiden's.

Inside they were greeted to the sight of a modest shop. Along its opposing walls hung either sets of armor or weapons. These particular armaments and apparel obviously were of the Nord variety; this was Skyrim's crown jewel after all. As such every piece had engraved detail work of Nord craftsmanship and decor upon them, from their appearances all the way to how differently the blades were tempered. This place was for Nords, through and through.

As with Nords, a heavily bearded, burly Nord stood behind a counter opposite the two women. A massive war-hammer could be seen on his back, and he himself was wearing very sturdy-looking iron armor. At the sound of their entry, he quickly perked to attention.

"Welcome to Warmaiden's," he greeted friendly, "Ah, housecarl Lydia! Always a pleasure to see you!"

"And to you as well, Ulfberth," Lydia greeted, "How's business for you these days?"

"It was calm at first, but now it seems like we've got hard work ahead of us," the man replied, "The Battle-borns have just requested a bulk order of Imperial swords be made. Even Adrianne has doubts she can get it done in time, but I have faith in her."

"Your wife's a good blacksmith, Ulfberth," Lydia assured him, "And swords for the Imperials means a better defense for Whiterun."

"Indeed," Ulfberth agreed, "Anyway, what can I do for you two? Looking to protect yourself, or deal some damage?"

"I... I um..." Siffre started quietly. Ulfberth's attention was lightly perked upon hearing sounds from her throat, but it was obvious he was leaning in due to her being too quiet. She sensed this, and after clearing her throat, focused hard on what she tried to convey, "I want some... some new armor... like Lydia's..." The housecarl looked at her in mild surprise. She was still whispering, but this time felt more concise and almost audible. Was she growing more and more used to being able to use words now?

"Is that so?" Ulfberth said, seemingly not bothered by Siffre's quiet request, "Well you my dear have come to the right place. We do have a set of steel women's Nordic armor, for warmth and cold, right here in stock." He then disappeared behind the counter by bending forward. He reappeared a second later, setting an entire array of said armor on the counter-top for the two ladies to see.

Siffre ran her finger tips along the engravings of the armor. The polish was smooth and the wool padding felt shaggy, yet soft.

"It's... just like yours..." she said, looking up at Lydia.

"That's right, since Lydia herself had gotten her own armor from this very shop as well," Ulfberth said, "It's unworn, but Adrianne was proud of the time and effort she put into this. Strong enough to protect from a hammer blow, and also..." He reached over to undo similar sleeve clips, exactly like the ones on Lydia's armor, and allow for the wool sleeves to stretch out longer, "retractable sleeves to keep your arms warm in any of Skyrim's coldest holds."

"Impressive," Siffre noted, "But... will it... fit me?"

"If you like, you can try it on first to make sure it fits," Ulfberth politely offered, then gestured to the side door, "You can use that room right there to change into it."

"Oh... a-alright," Siffre set down her shield, and picked the armor up in both arms, "I'll do that..."

"Excellent." Siffre made her way through the side doors and closed them behind her, leaving Lydia and Ulfberth alone in the main room.

"That one was a little... too quiet..." Ulfberth noted, softly lowering his own voice.

"She is..." Lydia said, "Unfortunately, general speech isn't one of my Thane's strong suits at the moment."

"Your Thane?" the man looked straight at Lydia, "Wait a minute, Balgruuf's filled that role on his court already?"

"That's right, and I've been assigned as her housecarl," Lydia said, "It's an honor to be sure."

"Well then, good on you Lydia," Ulfberth congratulated, "I know you'll make a fine protector, even if it wasn't exactly for the Jarl, like you wanted."

"It's fine, and thank you," Lydia said, "In fact, I'm slowly getting used to my current standing..." She found herself shifting her position to place her weight onto one foot, while casually placing her hand on the hilt of her sword. The motion itself was enough to draw the man's eyes to where her hand moved, and his eyes widened as he discovered the pommel and hilt of the blade.

"By the Gods, Lydia, that sword...!" he said, excitement creeping into his voice, causing her hand to pop off of the hilt in mild surprise, "Why I'd recognize Balgruuf's old blade anywhere! He had you bring it here for temperament?"

"Well, no, not exactly..." Lydia said, "You see, Balgruuf has... given me his sword. Passed it down to me, in fact." Ulfberth softened his widened eyes as looked from the sword back to Lydia.

"Truly? That tough old Nord and his blade have finally parted ways?" Lydia nodded, "Well then, best thing I can say is treat that sword right. Although Lydia, I've heard you to be a capable warrior in your own right, so you probably don't need me reminding you of that."

"Thank you Ulfberth, and you are right," Lydia replied, "The Jarl gave me his sword because he thought I was worthy, so I intend to prove his assumption was correct!" The two Nords had finished this discussion when the sound of creaking doors reached their ears. They turned to their side to see Siffre emerge from side room, under her arm a separate set of armor folded up as best as could be managed. She hadn't bothered to secure the sleeve ties near her shoulders, so the wool sleeves had been loosely stretched down to meet the edges of her gauntlets. She walked up to the counter to set the old armor down on top of it and free her arm.

"Hm, looks good," Lydia noted, "How does it feel?"

"This feels... really snug..." she softly said, stretching her arms around herself to demonstrate her point, "I think... I like it."

"That's mighty good to hear," Ulfberth said with a smile.

"So, how much will this cost?" Lydia reached behind her for the coin purse, only for the man to raise his hand up to stop her.

"How about this- you can simply trade in the old armor, and we'll call it even." Siffre and Lydia looked at each other, exchanging looks followed by nods.

"It's a deal, Ulfberth."

"Good doin' business with you." he replied, taking hold of the old armor and setting it below and underneath his counter, "So, is there anything else I can do for you ladies?"

"No, I believe that was all we needed from here," Lydia said, "Good day to you!"

"Safe travels, to the both of you!" The two waved each other off as the two ladies exited the store. Outside they could see Adrianne no longer was at the workbench but leaning against one of the support beams. Turning to notice them leave, she gave them a courteous nod.

"Oh yes, hold on..." Siffre suddenly stopped them. Lydia halted in her tracks as her Thane set her shield down at her feet. With free hands, she moved to secure her rolled-up sleeves via the clasp located at each shoulder. The left side she secured easily, but it was when she attempted the right side she showed some difficulty. The cloth tie kept slipping from her left hand's fingers, and her frustration steadily grew.

Lydia watched this as well, and all the while inside her amusement began to grow.

"Here, let me help with that..." she reached her hands up to secure it for her.

"I-I can-" Siffre tried to protest, but Lydia had already done it. She pulled her hands away, and both looked to see Siffre's upper arms were now bare to Skyrim's warm sun.

"There, I'd say we're both ready for Skyrim's cold," Lydia said, to which Siffre nodded, "Now then, Jarl Balgruuf said a carriage driver could take us to Ivarstead. There's one outside the city's entrance- a fella named Bjorlam."

"I remember... passing him," Siffre quietly noted, "When I first... arrived here... I know where he is."

"Then let's not waste anymore time," Lydia said, and the two continued on their way to the massive city gate, separating them from the whole of what else Skyrim had to offer, "Guardsman, we're heading out!"

The Whiterun guard that was standing next to the gates nodded to them, then moved forward to pull one of the massive doors open. The heavy door creaked audibly and loudly, and finally a big enough crack opened between the doors for the two ladies to move through. Once they had gone, the guard pushed the door back into its closed position.

* * *

"Need a ride?" Bjorlam the carriage driver asked.

"Yes please..." Siffre spoke. She spoke differently from before, where it seemed like she had to contain her voice in the presence of a crowd. Now that she was outside with few people around, she was at least not as quiet as before; a little softer than average speech volume this time. As such, the air before her mouth vibrated ever so slightly. Thankfully Bjorlam either didn't notice, or if he did notice, he thought nothing of it, "Can you... take us to... Ivars-tead?"

"Ivarstead?" the man said, considering, "Hmmm, that's not one of my usual stops..." He paused for a moment, "Ah well, it's on the way to Riften anyway, so I suppose I can at least drop you off there."

"Thank you Bjorlam." Lydia said.

"Twenty gold please." the carriage driver held out his hand. Lydia fished her hand behind her back into the coin purse, retrieved a handful of coins, and passed them into Bjorlam's hand.

"Alright, climb in back, and we'll be off!" he said, setting the coins into a small bag by his feet. Lydia moved first around to the back of the wagon and pulled herself into it. She took her seat, setting her shield down at her feet, and readjusting her sword so it was laying across her lap. Looking over, she could Siffre behind her, but that she had hesitated for a moment before pulling herself up as well. She took her seat across from Lydia, and both heard Bjorlam flick the reins on his horse. The carriage slowly rolled forward along the dirt road.

Lydia looked back at Whiterun as they rolled away. In a strange sort of way, the old but sturdy walls themselves were seeing her off on her long journey. This was different from when she'd left Whiterun in the past. Before she'd been dispatched to locations close by and within the Hold to settle whatever disputes were in play, all the while knowing she would return back to her home soon enough. Now though, it was as if she were leaving it for longer, like how a baby bird leaves its parent's nest.

Was she like a baby bird, moving out of her home and into the world to strike out on her own now?

She didn't say anything, but pulled her gaze away with a soft sigh. Her sigh drew Siffre's attention.

"Are... are you... alright?" she softly said. Lydia's eyes met hers, the latter's eyes holding concern within them.

"I'll be fine..." Lydia said, "It's just... perhaps it just hasn't quite sunken in yet."

"What hasn't...?"

"Well, me, leaving Whiterun," Lydia clarified, "Jarl Balgruuf ordered me to do so, but I guess... the reality of his request is..."

"You've... you've never left here... have you?" Siffre inquired. This earned her a look from Lydia, until she turned her head to look to the side in thought.

"No..." she said, "No, I've never left Whiterun, my whole life. Sometimes I'd be sent to deal with neighboring bandits or other threats in the area, but nothing that ever took me out of the hold."

"By the Gods..." both women heard Bjorlam say, causing them to look up at him. He was looking off to his right, and the two could see they were passing by the Western Watchtower by this point. As opposed to last time, a greater number of Whiterun guards could be seen there, picking up pieces of rubble that was the tower itself and moving them.

However, it was not only massive stone debris that they were moving, but dragon bones as well.

The three travelers watched in varying states of awe as the once whole dragon skeleton was being broken down piece by piece by the Nords. Each bone piece that was broken off was then loaded into another two-horse wagon. They all worked diligently in their task, none of them with any hesitation, considering that this skeleton they were disassembling had at one point terrorized the very sky above them. Perhaps the fear of this creature had long worn off for them by this point? Had they realized by now that it posed no further threat in its current state? Whatever the reason, what remained of it was now being carted off and would be taken to who knows where.

"Boy, am I glad that thing's no longer alive," Bjorlam noted, not necessarily to the two women but rather speaking to himself, "Road-travelin's hard enough these days without monsters from the sky..."

"Yes..." Siffre quietly noted, "But... I have a feeling... that there... there might be... more... than just one..." Upon hearing this, Lydia turns her gaze back to her with concerned eyes.

"My Thane... surely you're not serious?" she said, "You're saying that was not the only dragon out there?" Siffre shook her head.

"I know..." she said, her tone shifting to an even quieter, almost fearful one, "The dragon at... at Helgen..." her breath hitched for a moment, and she took a moment to breathe proper, "That one was... black... with red eyes, and..." Lydia noted Siffre's hands were shaking lightly in her lap, and what she could hear of her speech had trembling in it. That could not have been an easy memory to recount, a survivor of Helgen. Gods, how had she managed to survive in the first place?

Concern at the forefront of her mind, Lydia reached forward and placed a hand on top of Siffre's. The latter Nord's shaking stopped momentarily as she realized what she was doing. She looked up to find Lydia's comforting eyes, and a small smile of reassurance on her face.

"You need not worry," she said, "I am your sword, and your shield, even against the likes of a dragon," Siffre stared back at Lydia's eyes. After passing moments, she still hadn't verbally replied. Finally, she gave the faintest of nods to her. Any other time Lydia might have been put off that her promise of complete protection was being so casually acknowledged, but considering Siffre's current mood it was understandable.

Lydia pulled her hand back, resting it back on the hilt of her sword laying across her lap. Siffre found her eyes drawn to it, her fear slowly turning into curiosity.

"That sword..." she said, "Is that...?" Lydia looked down at her sheathed weapon. The crest of Whiterun's horse in the hilt looking back up at her, "I... I heard you and... that armor seller... talk about it..." Lydia held both of her arms underneath it to hold it up, not too high, but just up and level so both ladies could have a better view of it.

"Balgruuf's old sword..." Lydia said, "One he'd fought with in the Great War... one of the few things he had returned home with..."

"And now... it's with... you..." Siffre silently realized, "He... trusted it to you... didn't he?"

"He-... He did," Lydia looked up into Siffre's eyes, then back down at the weapon, "In his eyes, he saw I was someone worthy enough to be passed down to. It's... it's humbling, for I just know it's a huge responsibility for me ."

"I... I don't doubt you... either," Siffre spoke, "I remember... when you were... you know, fighting the dragon at first... you were... you were very brave, and skilled, with a sword... fighting that thing... up close..." Siffre's silent words brought memories of that recent fight back to Lydia's mind. How that fearsome yet grounded dragon gazed upon her with gleaming eyes. How even in that moment, when death seemed certain, Lydia would at least go down fighting. How she did manage to score decent hits on the beast, until...

"Until... it destroyed my original sword..." Lydia finished, "A sword which I had used for most of my life..." She found her hands gripping tighter around the blade's sheath, seemingly unconsciously, "Is this... was this all this really was? Nothing more than a simple replacement for a lost sword?"

"... M-maybe," Siffre spoke, and Lydia looked back up at her, "Maybe it is... a replacement... But, then again... it could also be a... a symbol; that sword, and... where it's from... It was given to you, because of you... and how you're... better now... than you were before." Lydia looked back up to Siffre, her widened eyes meeting the bluer eyes. Such profound meaning behind those words! She still had no clue where this woman came from, but... she was very much glad to have met her.

"I really do have a lot to live up to... Th-thank you," Lydia said with a smile, "Heh, you know, for someone who, well, wasn't as 'adept' at speech before, you now suddenly seem to have quite a way with words!" A gift of high praise, and Siffre couldn't stop the light blush that crept across her upper cheeks. She tried to turn her head to the side to hide this visible embarrassment. The more Lydia saw of this display, the more she... liked seeing it.

"O-of course," Siffre said after making a light cough to clear her throat. She very much wanted to move on to a different topic, "So... do you mind if... well, that is... may I 'see'... your sword?"

"Hm? Oh, of course," Lydia disconnected the small loop strap connecting the sheath to her waist, and she passed the entire weapon into Siffre's hands.

The dragonborn held in her own hands, giving the outer sheath a light squeeze. This leather material was course, yet somehow felt smooth beneath her fingers. And it felt sturdy, even when she merely dragged a fingernail across it. Her hand reached for the hilt, but she stopped herself and looked up at Lydia. The other Nord nodded in approval, and she drew the blade from its containment.

"Wow..." she breathed. The blade itself was dark-blue steel in color, but with the light of the sun reflected off the flat of the blade, it almost appeared bright silver, "It's so... clear."

"I'd only seen this blade once or twice before..." Lydia admitted and Siffre turned the blade to look at it from different angles, "Balgruuf never openly used this weapon, after he came back home to Skyrim..."

"Still... it's really impressive..." Siffre noted with a sigh, "much more than... than mine..."

"Well then my Thane, would you mind if I see yours?" Lydia suggested. Siffre did not reply verbally, but still gave a nod. She reached down to undo the strap that held her weapon to her waist as well.

As the two women continued to examine each others' blades, Bjorlam continued to drive the carriage. While his eyes were focused on the dirt road and his horse that drove them along it, his ears were completely tuned to the conversations behind him. Common courtesy taught him to always be like this- non-intrusive to the discussions his charges had while he charted them across the land. Still, he was allowed to hold reservations in his mind, and these ladies did have nice sentiments about them... But ultimately, it was all none of his business in the end.

As he continued to drive, he absently fished forth a small, blank piece of paper from his pocket. His other pocket reminded him that his small quill was also present, but that would be for later. Ivarstead and Riften were still a long ways off...

* * *

-And, done! Actually when I was writing up this chapter, a new batch of ideas hatched in my head that I really think I can play around with here! If I can execute them as well as I'm hoping, it might just make the world of Skyrim seem that much more... layered.

But, here's hoping that I actually can and do pull it off; until then, let me know what you all thought here, and I'll see you next time!-


	5. Chapter 5

-Woah, I hadn't realized just how much I'd typed up for this one! All from attempting to describe the entirety of one's journey up the 7,000 Steps to see the Greybeards for the first time! Let's see if I can wow you all just as before; enjoy!-

* * *

The majority of Lydia and Siffre's carriage trip was a quiet one. The one horse drawn carriage charted them across the flat, sparsely grassy plains of Whiterun hold. All around them, local fauna like deer kept reasonable distance from them. In fact, more fantastic creatures like a pair of giants, shepherding a group of massive mammoths, were also seen in the distance walking in the direction opposite them. While it was a quiet trip for them, the silence was occasionally broken up by the occasional remark or attempt at small talk.

Their cart proceeded along the dirt road until eventually it began to run alongside a river off to their right side. The White River, as Bjorlam had identified it, was a massive torrent of rushing water and crashing waves. Given how close it was to the mountain it was also a fair guess to assume it was freezing as well. The traveling party would do well to remain up on the trail's elevated high ground and away from the ice water below.

Throughout this trip, Lydia would catch glimpses of Siffre scanning the skies every so often. She did this, while her eyes held that familiar look of concern... and fear, from her earlier mentioning of Helgen. Thankfully, the skies were clear with no dragons to be seen, nor heard, from anywhere. All three of them would breathe a little easier with this basic fact, but that same fear never completely left Siffre's eyes.

As the road and the river curved more to the right, it was not only natural plant-life that could be seen. Dotting the land in very isolated places were more stone structures that were old run-down forts and keeps. From times long past when these places were structurally sound and in their prime, it was probable they served much different purposes back then than now. As such, forts like those were probably infested with bandits using them as their hold-outs. Thankfully they could only be seen at a distance, far away from the commonly traveled road. Little risk of any stick-ups in that regard...

Nearly an hour had passed and the curved road was definitely taking them more south by now. Lydia and Siffre began to notice the subtle change in the plant-life's appearance. Whereas plants and trees in Whiterun hold were known to be vibrantly green, they were now taking on a more warm-color to their leaves; a perpetual autumn. One of the first indicators for Lydia that she had fully left home, and she was greeted to a sight of strange beauty.

"Ladies," Bjorlam suddenly spoke up, "Ivarstead is directly straight in this direction, and to get there I'll need to break off the main road and take the side road." Siffre and Lydia looked out in the direction he was pointing. It was true, a smaller, more unbeaten path broke off from their current road and pulled inward to hug the mountain more.

"Alright then," Lydia said, and Bjorlam continued to drive. This new road would be taking them through a more forested section of land than where they had been travelling before. Trees were now more close to the road than before and could be seen much clearer this time. Lydia noticed the air had changed as well. It was... well, different, than what she was used to. It felt about the same coolness as Whiterun, but... Maybe the surrounding autumn leaves scented the air differently. It was a pleasant smell, and she couldn't complain about it at all.

Ten more minutes had passed, and Bjorlam spoke up again, "We're here!"

Siffre and Lydia looked forward. A stone bridge to cross, and there was a settlement to greet them. A small hamlet of about four buildings, and a lumber-mill at the edge of the river. It's massive wooden wheel continued to spin along with the ever-running current of the river. A figure could be seen within the saw mill itself doing something, but was too far away to be clearly identified. Lydia herself had been to Riverwood in Whiterun once or twice in her life, so the sight and concept of a saw mill run naturally by river flow was not new to her; it was a familiar feeling.

The carriage completely cleared a rise in the dirt road, and then came to a slow halt just outside of the settlement's perimeters.

"Here we are, Ivarstead of the Rift," Bjorlam said. One at a time, Lydia and Siffre walked out and off of the carriage. Touching back down they instantly felt how different the ground itself felt. It felt more moist, yet not too much to leave muck on their boots nor sink into it, "I apologize but I'll need to be heading off now to Riften; horse here'll need to be cared for."

"We... understand; thank you for your assistance," Lydia said. Bjorlam nodded, then flicked his wrist and was on his way back down the path through the town and onward in a different direction. While he traveled out of sight, Lydia and Siffre took a moment to stretch the stiffness out of their legs. They'd been sitting in that carriage for about an hour or two now, so it felt good to get the blood flowing through their legs again. They then looked back up and allowed themselves to embrace where they were.

"So this is the Rift Hold?" Lydia said, "Well, so far it looks pleasant enough..."

"The- the air," Siffre noted, "it smells... hm, crisper and... cooler."

"You smell it too?" Lydia asked, "I thought I was the only one who smelled how different it was..." She looked out towards Ivarstead again. There were fewer number of people walking around, doing various chores. One could be seen pushing the stone wheel of a massive wheat grinder, while others could be seen gardening. In addition, Lydia could see at least three guardsmen local to this Hold walking around. What immediately caught her eye was the difference in color of their armor. The cloth stitched into them was violet, signifying their allegiance to the Rift.

"So... we're here..." Siffre said, "Where... do we go now?"

"Hmmm..." Lydia pondered, "We should ask around, see if anyone has further information. Maybe the guardsmen?" She pointed out to a nearby patrol close by who was walking in their general direction.

"Alright..." Siffre moved first, Lydia right behind her, to meet with this female guard. She heard them approaching and stopped for a moment.

"You two are new here, aren't you?" she asked, "Travelers?"

"Of a sort, yes," Lydia said.

"We um..." Siffre said softly, "Well... we're trying to... see the Greybeards..." The guard tilted her head in response.

"Hm, no mere travelers but pilgrims?" she said, "There's no shortage of those coming to this town. I suppose I can tell you what all I know..." She turned and pointed to her side, "Simply cross that bridge over the river, and then the first of the 7,000 Steps awaits you..." Siffre gave an audibly sharp exhale of breath from the mentioning of that number.

"I... That's completely..." she looked at the guard, "There's really... that many steps... going up there?"

"Well, I've never walked it, so I can't personally say if that's true, or simply an estimate born of superstition..." the guard admitted with a shrug, "As for hardships, besides the climb itself, there's the occasional wolf or frostbite spider, but nothing you two can't handle from the looks of it."

"I see," Lydia said. That was an important detail to know, and she was glad to have heard it, "Well, it sounds like we'll need some healing potions just in case. Does this place have an apothecary?"

"I'm afraid Ivarstead does not have one, however..." the guard reached her free hand behind her and into her bag on her hip and pulled forth two small pink-colored vials, "I myself can spare two for the both of you." She held them out in her hand before Lydia and Siffre, and one after the other the two ladies accepted one from her.

"Um... thank you," Siffre said.

"Yes, thank you for this," Lydia pocketed her potion in her own bag, "And thank you for your time and the information."

"Good luck to the both of you," the guard said, and resumed on her patrol. Siffre and Lydia looked back at each other, then both looked out at the bridge, and the daunting path laid out before them.

From what they could see alone, there were a set of steps going straight up and alongside the mountain at first glance. About ten feet up however, the steps couldn't be seen anymore, but squinting closer could show that they curved inwards to the left and more along the mountain's side. They would no doubt continue to ascend its length. The further they looked up the mountain, they could see clearly how its summit seemed to pierce the cloud-line.

"The Throat of the World..." Lydia said, "Well, it certainly lives up to its reputation."

"And we... haven't even... climbed it yet," Siffre noted, "But... I'll have to... if I ever want to... to understand this... this Voice I have..."

"Agreed," Lydia said, "So I guess we'd better get started..." With that, the two women proceeded to cross over the stone bridge. The sound of rushing water could be heard directly beneath them through the stone structure. Their noses were also filled with the faint vapors of light mist that the crashing water produced as well. They hadn't even started up the mountain yet and were greeted by scenic marvels.

The first steps were finally before them and they began to ascend. Years of weathering and erosion marred the pristine image of each step. Almost every step on this single section had a curved off corner. Unfortunately, this was something Siffre realized too late as she slipped the toes of her boot off the edge and fell forward with a small yelp.

"Ah-!" The air in front of her vibrated along with her yelp. Her open hand and her shield held in front of her to catch herself as she fell to one knee. Dull pain shot up the length of her leg and through the rest of her upper body.

"My Thane!" Lydia rushed to her side to help her up, "Are you alright? You must be careful!"

"I-I know..." Siffre said, "I just... slipped..." Shaking herself, she and Lydia were moving again. Siffre took her next steps slowly and deliberately this time. From looking up, they could see how this set of stairs curved to the left as it ascended, while at about fifteen feet away from them and about ten feet high off the natural ground.

"Huh? What is that?" Lydia noted. Before they could commit to the sharp left turn the steps would take them, something could be seen in front of them off to the right side of the path. The women approached it to look closer at it. It was a small, stone-carved object, a little shorter then Siffre, with a center hollowed out of it. The outside of it held a carving of a humanoid figure, though like the steps had also eroded slightly from external weather, "What is this?"

"It's... there's something... written in here..." Siffre's eyes caught sight of words within the carved out hollow of the stone, "Um... 'Before the ...birth of men... th-the Dragons... ruled all Mundus'," Lydia's perked up at attention. Mundus? Dragons were present in every part of the world, not just in Skyrim?

"'Their word was... the Voice, and they... spoke... only for... True Needs, for the Voice could... blot out the sky and... flood the land...'" Siffre stepped away from the carved text, still eyeing what it was she just read, "The Voice... it's really that... that powerful... isn't it?"

"I wouldn't put it past dragons to actually be capable of something like floods... Even if this was clearly written many years ago." Lydia remarked, "Come on, let's keep moving."

Lydia and Siffre turned back to the left and proceeded along the steps' path. The path felt a little different this time, as the steps themselves didn not feel as steep one after the other as the initial ones felt. The path in front of them looked to be much more of a flatter surface. The two could actually see in the distance before them where the path curved back to the right again.

As they reached halfway across this stretch of the path, Siffre suddenly glanced to her left side. Past the jagged rocks jutting out of the side of the mountain, she could see Ivarstead below, as well as a clearer view of the rushing river rapids.

"Look at that... the view..." she quietly uttered as she walked. Lydia looked over to her side as well. Ivarstead looked more and more miniature by now, and the people could barely be seen. This view was incredible, but also a little... precarious.

"It is, my Thane, but we should stick closer over here, away from the edge?" Lydia reminded her. Siffre heeded this advice and the two of them moved as far away from the edge of the mountain. No where in did this endeavor of theirs included falling to their deaths off the world's tallest mountain. Especially when they had just started, no less!

A few more feet and a few more slight steps, and the path suddenly curved back to their right and began to ascend much more sharply. Even as they walked up these new steps, Siffre and Lydia's calves were both starting to burn by this point. There was also the fact that this section of the path appeared to narrow a bit, which reduced the amount of space for the two ladies to walk up. On their left side the walls of the mountain appeared to stretch outward, while to their right side sets of sturdy trees sprouted out and along the edge.

Siffre walked up, her hand held on the wall to steady herself.

"This... this is... my legs are..." her quiet tone this time had a mix of panting in her voice.

"I know, it feels like my legs are on fire as well..." Lydia agreed. Every step taken only added another kindling to the burning in her lower legs. The combined foot-wraps and inner boot's padding did little to cushion her own feet's discomfort. If her own legs were starting to hurt this much, she could only imagine what Siffre's were like, considering her's had been blistered earlier.

Up this stretch the relative end could be seen, at least in a sense that it would curve again. But that wasn't the only thing the two women saw. Two things could be seen at the path's curve: another of those carved stone readings, and a man, walking down along that curve carrying a dead rabbit in his hand. In his field of vision his eyes fell upon the two women approaching him.

"Hail travelers!" the man greeted, "You're headed up the path to High Hrothgar as well?"

"As well?" Lydia asked, confused, "There are others travelling this path?"

"Indeed, this is a Path many pilgrims like to travel, though you two are the first ones I've seen today," he said, "I was just heading back down and take a load off at the inn, and get this game cooked." He indicated to the dead rabbit in hand. Lydia stepped to the side to allow the man to walk past them.

"W-wait," Siffre silently spoke up, causing the man to turn back and face her, "Have you... um, have you been... u-up there? To High... Hrothgar? Seen these Greybeards?" The man's eyes narrowed at the questions.

"Hmmm, I've never gone that far up to the monastery myself, much less even laid eyes on them..." he said, "Still I simply content myself in travelling this path as my form of meditation... Is that what you two have come to do?"

"Well, not really," Lydia said, "Our business... it directly involves the Greybeards..."

"Really? Then that means you're going up to High Hrothgar yourselves? Hm, here..." With his free hand, the man fished into his side bag and pulled forth two small objects, "I keep salted meats on me just in case. It sounds like you two'll need them more than I do."

"Oh, thank you," Lydia said, taking her piece. Salted meats were handy for staving off the ill-effects of hunger, despite how bad it tasted. Siffre took her piece right after she did.

"Well, luck be with you," the man said, proceeding to walk back down where they had come, "Oh, and keep an eye out for nasty creatures. I thought I heard a frost troll's cry on the way back down here...!" The man grew smaller as he walked further down and away, leaving the two women alone.

"Frost troll?" Lydia said aloud. That was not good news. Any troll that had a word tacked on to its name like 'frost' troll was definitely not one to trifle with, "We'd best keep alert from here on out, my Thane." Tucking away their respective meats, they both started to turn back on the path, until Siffre remembered the curved etching stone they were about to pass.

"Wait... I want to... see what this says..." she walked up and looked closely at the words, "Men were born and... spread over the face... of... Mundus...The Dragons... presided over the... crawling masses... Men were weak then... and had no Voice."

"How could that be though?" Lydia pondered, "From what I've seen of dragons, they may be powerful, but still act like nothing more than animals."

"It um... maybe they... speak?" Siffre said, "Communicate with other dragons... somehow?"

"A talking dragon? That's another thing I wouldn't want to think could exist..." Lydia said with a shudder. She then looked back up at the left-curved path again, "Hey, look there; finally snow."

"Yes, I can feel that... that chill, in the air... I should-" Siffre reached her free hand to her arm to undo the clip that held her sleeve in place. It fell down the length of her arm until its end met with the end of her gauntlet, and she repeated the same process with the other sleeve. The effect was immediate, the wind was no longer stinging at her arms as fiercely as before with this protection for her arms, "Ahh... better."

Lydia had done the same with her sleeves and the two women continued their ascent. This time they not only had the steepness of the steps to worry about, but the snow and ice that were found on them added a thin layer of slickness to their surface. They were careful to make each step they took deliberate and precise- front toes and half the soles on each step, heels going unused.

It was by now the wind around them was now openly noticeable. It howled in their ears and whipped its cool in their faces as they continued to walk. Lydia could feel the tip of her nose starting to freeze by now. If only this wind could be useful and cool off her burning calves a little bit!

The path began to curve inward again, but not enough to swing around in the opposite direction this time. The path began to ascend more into the mass of the mountain itself... Wait, was there still a wall of mountain in front of them, or maybe the mountain was much more massive in scale than either woman had initially anticipated? It was getting harder to tell by this point. And only adding to the tribulations was the fact that the snow that now replaced soil on the ground was beginning to pour over on top of the steps, which would not only make it even slicker but conceal it from view!

"I can't... see... where to step..." Siffre struggled against the whipping wind.

"Stay close to me, my Thane! I can still see, barely...!" That was partially true, as Lydia only had a rough guess of where the steps were. The wind whipping her face and obscuring her vision as well of as the slickness of the steps were not doing her nor Siffre any favors. She was starting to lose feeling in her cheeks by this point, but she pressed on, listening closely for the sound of Siffre's steps behind her to make sure she was there.

The path curved slightly to the right again, and for once Lydia could see at the top the gray of the sky above to greet her. Could this mean they had reached it? While so far this 'felt' like they'd ascended 7,000 steps there was no way it could actually be true, could it?

"It looks clear at the top of this pass!" Lydia called out behind her.

"R-really?" Siffre called out. Lydia's eyes narrowed at what she'd heard; that had to have been the loudest she'd ever heard Siffre's voice so far! It was a little louder than one would try and talk over a crowd of people, with air vibrations accompanying it. Maybe surrounding, howling wind was a suitable motivation.

"Let's just... keep pushing...!" Lydia reached her open hand behind her, a second later Siffre taking hold of it. The two women powered through with burning legs in an icy storm to finally cross over the pass...

What they did find was mixed results. Before them was a clearing, a large open area of a snow ground with trees off to their right side and the mountain's sheer drop to the left. There were no more steps directly in front of them, but rather steps could still be seen at the other end of this area!

"Gods... damn it!" Lydia cursed, "We're still not there?!" This was ludicrous! It felt like they'd been climbing for ages, but looking up at the mountain's side showed there was much more to be climbed.

"Huh... my legs... I'm... tired..." Siffre huffed and panted behind her, "And a... a little hungry..." She reached into her back to pull forth the salted meat. She unwrapped it from the cloth it was wrapped in and gingerly took a bite from it. The saltiness assaulted her taste buds instantly, but it was still satisfying to chew on something.

Lydia glanced over at Siffre, the sight of her munching on her salted meat diminished her moment of frustration. As they walked forward, she fished forth her own piece of salted meat and bit into it as well. Her piece tasted like it was lightly salted, and because of that was noticeably without flavor. But she was hungry at the moment, and flavorless food in her belly was still food.

They moved slowly across this open section of a clearing, the ankle-deep snow combined with the whipping wind slowing their movement. Before they reached the end of it and the next set of steps, another etched carving stone could be seen off to the left side. Siffre quickly finished her piece of meat and moved closer to inspect it.

"My Thane, do we really need to stop for every one of these?" Lydia asked.

"I'm... curious... They've been mentioning... this Voice..." she urged, then turned to look in closer, "Hmmm... The fledgling... spirits of Men were strong... in Old Times, unafraid to... war with Dragons and their Voices... But the Dragons only shouted them down... and broke their hearts..." She took a step back and looked at Lydia.

"This is starting to sound like reminding us of what's obvious," Lydia said, "The dragons and everything about them are a menace, we already know this!"

"Yes, they are... but..." Siffre said, "Where did they... go? How are they... coming back?" She gestured to the etched stones, "And the Voice... These things might... reveal more about the Voice!" Lydia shook her head with closed eyes and a sigh. It might be the frustration gripping her presently, but there was clearly a far more pressing matter than simply reading every stone's written words on a snowy mountain!

"We should really press onward..." Lydia urged, tension starting to creep into her voice. Siffre followed behind her, back up another set of steps. The cleared a couple flights when the path suddenly dipped downward, then curved back upward again. Up, down, up, down, climbing steps was hard enough going a single direction, never-mind two interchangeably! Both women's calves were practically screaming at them while on fire by this point. Fortunately, the surrounding wind appeared to let up a little so that they could at least see a good ten feet in front of them. At this point, any lack of hardship for them was great news.

They'd reached what felt like their third rise of steps when the path descended yet again, this time almost clear off the side of the mountain itself if the path didn't curve to the right again. Instead, there was the familiar sight of another etched carving stone, words within ready to greet a reader.

A sigh escaped Lydia's lips as the two of them descended down this pass. Well, to be fair, there were multiple reasons for her sigh; her screaming calves for one. Beside her, Siffre could be heard panting as well, the same kind of hard breathing she herself was doing. Even if she wasn't vocally admitting it, Lydia could tell she was also getting tired as she was. She supposed it could've been worse, the whipper winds might have returned with a vengeance, or the two of them could've even had to traverse this path completely without boots. A quick mental prayer went up to the gods above that her boots were doing a superb job in keeping her feet completely warm, even when submerged in snow.

They reached the flat section of this pass, and Siffre approached the etched carving stone. However, she didn't read what was written right away. Lydia tilted her head at this.

"My Thane? Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I... I can't... pronounce this word..." she softly said, "Paa-... Parther... Paath...-" Lydia groaned.

"If you can't pronounce it, then what is the point of trying to decipher this?!" she exclaimed. Siffre looked back at her with opened, pleading eyes.

"Lydia!" the air rippled between them as her volume was raised slightly, "Because... Kyne and... whatever this word is... they taught Men... to use the Voice!"

"Kyne?" Lydia said, "That proves it- the gods themselves gave them the Voice! What more is there to know?!" Siffre's eyes narrowed at Lydia's continued outbursts.

"This is... something that directly... involves me!" her voice was definitely raised to normal speaking level, yet the air between them vibrated hard with every pronounced syllable that exited her mouth, "Am I... forbidden from... wanting to know more?!"

"I would say under better weather conditions, and from actual people who are still alive, at the end of this gods-forsaken path, and would probably be more than willing to tell you more themselves!" Lydia was almost fuming at this point, returning Siffre's hard stare with one of her own. In that moment, the snow around them didn't feel as cold and icy. Both women stared at each other, a single, similar thought on their minds,

'How can she not see the importance of this?!'

Lydia shook her head and continued to follow the path, not even bothering to wait and see if Siffre was behind her. Thankfully the Dragonborn followed after her up the next flight of steps. The air around them was thick and palpable, in spite of their current altitude. In fact, glancing off to their left side showed that they were so high up by now, the surrounding sky only appeared as a thick, gray blanket of clouds, wind, and snow.

Before them, the flight of steps led them up a steadily narrowing path. A jagged rock wall on their right stretched outward, while the edge of the path, and the mountains pass on their left, drew closer to the center. Lydia could feel her frustrations grow even more; not only were her feet crying out for mercy, but she had to voluntarily angle herself and keep within the confines of the steps to avoid the risk of falling.

Siffre was right behind her, and her own legs were not faring much better than her housecarl's. In fact, she didn't tell her but her legs were practically on fire and their muscles were tightened from this unconventional exercise. She was used to travelling along flatter areas of land, certainly not up mountains! Glancing up this mountain, she could see through the thick of the clouds above how it the peak could be seen much clearly now, a beacon of hope and relief through the fog. There was now the sense that they were almost there... and that she would get the answers she desperately sought.

By now the path led them through a small, rocky ravine. Thankfully with bigger walls of rock now surrounding them, the wind wouldn't be able to blow against them as hard if it ever picked up again. In fact, this part of the path thankfully had no more ascensions as the women passed through this ravine. Maybe things would look better from here on-

A growling sound could be heard on the wind, causing Lydia to instantly stop moving. They stood beneath a rocky outcrop reaching above them by now when that strange sound reached her ears.

"Huh? What was...?" she said, "My Thane, there's something here..."

"Really?" Siffre spoke with skepticism, "I thought... nothing was to stop us-"

"That's not what I meant!" Lydia urged, "I mean be sile-" In that instant, Lydia quickly cut herself off, even as she glanced at her Thane. Perhaps that was not the best choice of words to use in front of her. She just hoped that Siffre would not take hard offense to that, "I thought... I thought I heard something..." she quickly covered up.

Siffre's eyes widened a little, and she glanced around at the looming rocks surrounding them, "I didn't... hear anything..."

"Let's keep moving, but carefully..." Lydia said. She began to slowly walk through this ravine, maintaining a slow and steady pace for her and Siffre to walk. She trained her ears to focus on whatever that sound was, hoping she wouldn't hear it again. Or worse, that whatever it was wouldn't hear them.

Siffre followed her housecarl until the two of them completely exited the ravine and the surrounding overhead rocks. Before them the path veered again to the right, with plenty more steps revealed before them. On the other hand, directly in front of them lay a sheer drop off the side of the mountain. Their course clear, the two of them proceeded towards the steps... or would have if Lydia hadn't stopped yet again.

Her eyes widened, and she slowly turned around in cautious fear. She'd heard it, that growling noise. This time, Siffre heard it as well, and both women turned their heads back around to face the source. That source stood upon the outer edge of the overhead rocks, eyes looking down on them.

"A frost troll..." Lydia breathed. The creature stood above them, arms long enough to almost drag their knuckles on the ground, individual hairs of its fur being blown on the wind, and its maw open to bare its canines at them. It pounded the ground once, then twice, then flailed them out with a roar. There was no denying it- it had seen them, and would probably want to kill them!

"A... troll..." Siffre breathed. She quickly pulled her sword from her sheath. Upon hearing this, Lydia did the same. The two women stood, side by side, their shields held out before them, at the ready. This may be a hardship involved with travelling this path, but this one involved combat, something they were definitely familiar with.

The troll wasted no time and practically leaped up to jump all the way down to their level. The two women watched as it hit the ground with a thud, on its hands and feet, yet continued to advance upon them unfazed.

'Alright Lydia, stay calm,' Lydia thought to herself, 'Left leg forward, right leg steady. Shield arm out, sword arm at the ready-' She barely finished her mental mantra when the frost troll was already on them, swinging its heavy arms. The two women braced themselves and their shield arms as best they could, but were still caught off guard by the sheer strength behind the swings. The force and vibrations of the strikes rattled through their hands, up their arms and practically shook their bodies.

"Grgh-!" The result of their defense was mixed; despite the deep rattling through her body, Lydia held her body steadfast. Siffre on the other hand found herself staggering backward, unused to this type of raw strength attack. In the process she lost her footing and fell straight back down into the bed of snow beneath her.

"My Thane! Are you-?!" Lydia did not have time to finish as the troll did not afford her a chance. With only one person now immediately before it, it focused all of its attention on her. With an animal-like snarl, it attempted to back-swipe at her from the opposite direction from before. But Lydia was prepared this time, and thrust her shield forward to bash it, catching it off guard.

This time the frost troll was left staggered, and Lydia quickly made her move to slash at the creature's unguarded midsection. Balgruuf's blade bit into the flesh, but unfortunately did not penetrate any further than about a centimeter of skin.

The troll quickly recovered from its dazed state and practically threw its entire weight into a shoulder dash. Lydia tried to block with her shield but was nonetheless thrown back, her sword yanking from the troll's flesh. She too staggered backward but was quick to maintain her balance and footing. She quickly glanced to her side to find Siffre regaining her feet.

"Urgh, damn..." She quickly shook her head, then looked back up at the troll in frustration. As the creature jumped in place and pounded its arms onto the ground, Lydia's eyes squinted as she noticed something. The slash wound on the troll's side was... growing smaller? Her eyes widened at the sudden realization.

"Trolls- they can heal quickly!" she exclaimed, "My Thane, that thing can deal much damage to us, while we can barely do minimum against it-!"

"Then I'll finish it now!" Reservations were completely abandoned as Siffre's raised voice harshly vibrated the air in front of her. She charged forward, sword arm held back and shield pressed forward.

"No, wait!" Lydia tried to stop her, "It's best if we attack togeth-"

But Siffre was already on the troll, shield arm bashing away an arm that tried to smack at her. She followed it up by kicking her foot forward into the creature's chest, pushing it back as well. Its head turned to the side, arms flailed loosely at each end, her opening was in sight! She raised her sword, pointed it straight, and stabbed forward.

Unfortunately, the troll's body shifted at the last minute, leaving Siffre's blade tip to penetrate its shoulder, rather than its heart where she'd intended. About one third of the sword sank into the flesh, leaving the troll to howl in pain.

Lydia watched as her thane pulled off this display, amazed! She'd actually gotten a hit on this creature, in spite of the it's high endurance! Maybe she can help capitalize on it as well.

The housecarl rushed in, her own arm raised to stab Balgruuf's blade tip into the troll as well. Her mark was aimed true, until the troll suddenly cocked its head forward. It's three eyes boring into the two women before it. Before Lydia could stab her sword, the troll suddenly threw both of its heavy arms up. This single action caused both women to lose grips on their own weapons, Lydia's sword went flying up and landed in the bed of snow, while Siffre's sword was left embedded in the troll's body, blood dripping from the wound.

"My sword!" the two women called out simultaneously. But the frost troll quickly followed up on its counterattack by smacking Siffre to the side, and shoulder charging Lydia. The housecarl held up her shield to block again, but was still shoved a great distance back. As she hit the snow, she felt a draft behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, the sheer drop was directly behind her! She frantically tried to crawl forward and away from the edge, but the troll was already upon her before she could get too far away from it. It held its arms up and relentlessly pounded on top of her outstretched shield. Every strike against the metal produced an echoing clanging sound up the mountain.

Her teeth grit and the muscles in her left arm screamed out in pain! There was simply no relief, no letting up with this creature! She was laying down so she couldn't get her arm forward to bash it away! She reached for her sword- oh gods! Her sword had fallen from her grip! Where was it?! The troll was now striking one arm on the shield while the other one was taking shots at her exposed side! Her armor did its best to cushion the impacts, but they still rattled her with radiating pain, blow after blow. At this rate her armor would be completely broken through! Then what?

Behind them, Siffre had recovered her senses and was picking her self up from the snow. She could feel the whipping ice wind against her arm; that impact had rolled up the sleeve slightly to expose her arm to the cold. There wasn't any time to catch her breath, she had to get to-

Looking up, there was Lydia, and a frost troll pounding its arms down upon her! Some of its strikes aimed at her shield, others were aimed at her body!

"Lydia!" Siffre cried out, air vibrating before her. One more strike on Lydia's body, and the troll's attention was pulled away to look behind it. Siffre's eyes had widened in fear. Looking down, Lydia was barely moving. The troll made a strange clicking sound with its mouth as it turned its head. As it rotated its body, Siffre's sword could be seen sticking out of its upper body, blood dripping from the insertion point.

But even in spite of this, the troll didn't even seemed to register pain. Its three beady eyes almost seemed to hold a strange look to them, a sneering look. Siffre saw this look, and her mind flashed. Yet another great calamity stood before her, and there she stood, helpless. Her hand involuntarily squeezed empty air, and she briefly forgot that she was literally empty-handed. This couldn't go like last time. But what could she do?

As hopelessness built up in her being, something else could be felt building up...

A sense that this was not the end...

This feeling built up, greater and greater, until finally...

**"FUS!"**

She almost didn't even realize it, even as it escaped her own mouth. The Voice burst from her lips and rushed straight towards the frost troll. It passed all around and past the creature, but the troll still appeared to recoil from this effect. So much in fact that it ended up stumbling and staggering a few steps backwards... towards the cliff's edge.

The frost troll's sneering eyes widened into now panic and fear. It flailed its arms helplessly, crying shriek as it tumbled over the edge of the mountain side. Its cries steadily grew more and more faint until they could be heard no more.

Siffre was left standing in place, panting. She'd just used the Voice, again! Had she meant to do that? And what was it that triggered its usage? All she knew was that at the moment, her throat felt strangely sensitive, both outside, and inside.

"Lydia!"

But more importantly, Siffre rushed over to where Lydia was still on the snow. The housecarl thankfully was moving, if only just barely pulling herself into sitting position. She groaned, then briefly coughed into her fist when Siffre had got down on one knee to her level. Lydia lowered her fist to reveal spots of blood to the two of them. Both of their eyes widened at the sight.

"Lydia, you were... injured!" Siffre lowered her voice, "How badly... are you hurt?"

"I-ow!" Lydia grimaced as she gripped her side. Her hand reached down to cover over a small patch over red bleeding through the cloth of her armor, "Blasted troll... I'll be-"

"Quickly, here...!" Siffre fished into her hip-pack and retrieved the small vial of healing potion that guards-woman had given to her. With that heavy jostling of movement and impacts she took, it was a miracle it was still intact! She uncorked the top and swiftly but gently held it up to Lydia's lips. The housecarl slowly swallowed its contents, her grimace slowly growing more from the taste.

"Ahh," Lydia groaned. She was instantly reminded of the horribly bitter taste of a healing potion. She was almost not sure which was worse- her sore, bleeding side, or that.

"Huh? What is it...? Was that not... for healing?" Siffre suddenly fretted.

"No no, it's alright," Lydia said, "I'd recognize a healing potion when I taste one..." She looked back up at Siffre's concerned face, "And... you... you saved me. Again!"

'Even though I was supposed to be the one protecting you...' she thought.

"D-don't think anything... of it," Siffre quickly dismissed, "A-are you, able to walk?"

"I... I think so..." Lydia carefully pulled herself to both feet, Siffre standing close with hands out in case. Her entire upper body felt unbelievably sore, and her armor felt like it had strange dents in it. Well, she'd inspect her armor more closely later, for now-

Wait, what about... Her sword! Balgruuf's sword given to her; where was it?! She thankfully didn't have to look far, as it was easily spotted laying in the snow, dark blue against stark white. Carefully, she moved to pick it up and wipe the blood of the edge.

"Your sword... Wait, where is mine?! Where- oh no..." Siffre darkly realized. Lydia's eyes widened as well, even as she watched Siffre rush close to the edge of the mountain cliff.

"My Thane! Be careful!" She called out. She made to rush to her side, but a sudden jolt of pain shot up the length of her body. She clenched her eyes and teeth as she struggled to fight off the pain. Just how good of hits did that frost troll land on her?!

"My sword..." Siffre said, looking over the cliff-side, "My sword...!" Her voice raised in volume, but while facing the general direction of the open gray sky, the heavy vibrations that accompanied her Voice instead came off as overplayed echoes from the mountain. Her cry carried across the sky, ringing out as far as could be reached.

The housecarl's heart went out to her thane in this instance. She knew exactly the pain she was experiencing. Not too long ago, she too had lost a beloved weapon of hers. In light of this, Lydia powered through her physical pain and reached out to hold Siffre's shoulder. Upon contact, Siffre quickly spun her head to the side, and her demeanor quickly shifted as well. Her pain from the loss of her weapon switched to heavy concern for her housecarl. There was still a little blood pooling on her side, her hand gripping that spot hard, and her face was still scrunched in pain.

"Siffre, I am... I'm so sorry, about the loss of your weapon," Lydia tried to say, "But-but right now, we need-"

"But, how?" Siffre asked, "My sword... it's gone! I'm... useless!" Shaking her head, Lydia held her own sword out before Siffre.

"Here, you can use mine to protect us both," she offered.

"Huh? But that's-"

"It's our best chance! You don't have a sword but I'm in no condition to fight right now! So please, take it!" She gestured her sword to Siffre again, and the Dragonborn took it, holding it in her right hand.

"A-alright then... Um, can you still walk?" Siffre asked.

"I... I think so..." Lydia tested her legs, and found them to be none too injured. And with Siffre leading the way, Lydia's sword in her hand, the pair continued to walk along this now snow-concealed path.

Unlike earlier when the wind had died during their encounter with the frost troll, now suddenly it was picking back up again. With every step Lydia took along these steps, raw, dull pain rang throughout her body. No matter how gently of a step she took to try and reduce the pain, it still persisted, harder and harder. She hoped there would be some sort of relief with steps taken in the snow, but that helped very little, and also added unnecessary freezing to her feet by this point. Cold and beaten, what a way to survive a fight...

In front, Siffre led them along, keeping a watchful eye open and scanning all around them for any more creatures. Who knows what others were out there on this mountain? Maybe another troll? Or two? Or maybe even something stronger, and deadlier, than a troll. And with the two of them in the states they were, chances are they'd be made short work of. In light of that, Siffre couldn't shake this persistent feeling of... guilt, gripping her. She remembered not initially heeding Lydia's earlier warning about hearing the frost troll the first time. But she hadn't heard it, why? Was she not paying attention? Was her mind focused on something else at the time? That's right, that argument involving reading what those etched stones had to say! And now because of that, Lydia was gravely injured because of her?! Even by now as they passed yet another etched stone, Siffre suddenly felt little to no interest in stopping to read what it said. Those damned stones, her damned curiosity-

The sound of something dropping into snow caused Siffre to stop short. Turning around, her eyes widened upon seeing Lydia had fallen on all fours in the snow. Her breathing sounded shallow she wasn't displaying much movement.

"Lydia...?!" Siffre rushed back to her downed housecarl and gently shook her shoulder, "Lydia... are you...?"

"Urrgh..." a groan escaped the other woman's lips. She was still somewhat conscious, thank goodness. But this was no place to fall and stay down! There were no other options: they had to get to High Hrothgar, now!

Siffre angled Lydia's right arm around her shoulders and lifted with all her strength. Slowly but surely, and with a few complaining moans accompanying it, the two women were back on their feet. Unfortunately, Siffre quickly found that the extra pressure placed on her now only meant that her boots would sink into the snow that much easier. Still, she had to press on! They had to get out of this snow and someplace, anyplace, that was indoors! And previous mentions did say that High Hrothgar was a fort on this mountain. That would mean it could provide some adequate shelter from the wind!

"My Thane..." Lydia groaned, "I-I can... I can still... move..." Her speaking was strained from her injuries no doubt, which ironically was causing her to speak like Siffre. If not for these dire circumstances, the Dragonborn might have found some humor in this ironic situation.

"No, you can't... Lydia... You're injured, and you... fell down just now!" she spoke softly yet harshly, "Just... don't talk... I'll get us there... soon." Lydia didn't reply, or had she slumped her head from exhaustion? Whichever, Siffre carried the two of them along the path. Thankfully, they didn't seem to encounter any more ascending steps on this snow-covered path. While that did mean less burn for her calves, it still meant more burn for her ankles to work themselves out of being stuck in snow every step.

Siffre's eyes were darting all around them as they moved, ever more alert this time. They couldn't have been more vulnerable if they had both been stripped of their armor by this point! Still, for whatever good it would do, she tried to take as soft steps as she could when walking along, hoping to make less noise with every step. Lydia's feet were half-dragging and half-stepping, which in itself didn't make much noise either.

There were also moments as they walked where she'd notice a few more etched carving stones, beckoning her to read what they said. Had this been a mere twenty minutes ago, she would've been delighted to do so. But now, her interest in them had greatly diminished; there was something more important on her mind to take care of. She could feel Lydia shivering through her own body, though this kind of shivering felt different, and alarming. It felt as if her very core was being frozen, even with her winter-sleeves rolled down to help ward off cold.

The path continued to loop and curve to the right around the mountain, and Siffre could feel her frustration and despair growing with each false hope... until...

Against the gray, snow-storming sky, something could be seen. Something solid, something black, something almost erected from the very mountain itself. It appeared small, but still held perpendicular shaped roof, the outer walls, as well as a brazier with a fire burning in front. There was no denying it, and Siffre did not even stop the grin that was forming on her face.

"There... that's-that's it!" her voice vibrated slightly to mirror her excitement, "Look Lydia! It's there...!"

"Ugh, wha-?" Lydia stirred a little, but couldn't lift her head very high to look upon this marvel. Her upper body still screamed of pain, but by now the pain had dulled her and her senses considerably.

"Don't worry... We're almost... there...!" Siffre found her second wind as she carried the two of them with renewed strength. High Hrothgar began to grow larger as they drew closer to it. Looking at it, the stone structure looked like no kind she'd ever seen before in Skyrim. They appeared... weathered, and ancient. A piece of history, here in the present.

Before they reached the final steps that would lead them into the structure itself, Siffre noticed out of the corner of her eye one last stone. One last etched carving stone looking out at her before she would enter the building. She still had no intent on stopping to read what it said, yet still found herself glancing at it with both eyes. In fact, even from this distance, she could almost make out what it said...

'The Voice is worship; Follow the Inner path; Speak only in True Need.'

Worship, inner path, true need? There would be time to ponder this particular meaning later. For now, she almost hastily stepped up each step until they stood in the shade of the entry doorway.

"We did it...! Don't worry, Lydia..." Siffre spoke softly, "We'll get you warm... now, how do I...?" She looked over the massive door of an ancient past and found its door-handle. She gripped it with her right hand and pulled. It was much heavier than she'd anticipated, so she put more strength into her pull until finally it gave way and opened. Once it had opened a reasonable space, she slipped herself and Lydia through the crack, allowing the door to slowly slam shut behind them.

* * *

-And that's that! Special shout-out to that Throat of the World Frost Troll that no doubt everyone remembers! You know, the one that everyone dies to the first time they try to climb the 7,000 Steps? There was no denying that it had to have a big role to play in this story, which I hope I pulled off well! Anyway, I'll see you all very soon with the next chapter!-


	6. Chapter 6

-This chapter in particular I'm really excited for, as it shows some ideas I had in mind for the precise training the Greybeards would have for Siffre. Of course I didn't want the whole thing to be a simple rehash of one first meeting them and just recounting what they do in game. Plus there's the fact that the Dragonborn was not alone in this instance when first arriving...

Anyway, getting off-topic here; enjoy this chapter!-

* * *

The massive door closed with a thud, and the howling wind was cut short as well. No more could the ice wind bite at their tender flesh, plus being actually indoors would help in warding off lingering cold. It was good in itself to have finally arrived here. As to where...?

Leading the shallow breathing Lydia along, Siffre walked forward through a narrow entry hall. It was completely darkened, save for a small torch that hardly illuminated anything with what little light it could produce.

The two made their way out of this entryway and into a large chamber. With the exception for a few burning braziers positioned at different corners of the room as well as light pouring in from thin, transparent tiles on the ceiling above, the room itself felt... unnaturally darkened. Something about this darkness was not sitting right with Siffre, thus she felt herself thankful it was offset by the light from these braziers. How was anyone to see where they were going in this place?

On that note, Siffre looked all around, but didn't see anyone else in her immediate sight. This was the home of these Greybeards, wasn't it? So where were they? Didn't they hear the sound of that massive door open and close? Someone had to be here, her housecarl in her supported grip was in need of treatment! Her mouth twitched open and she caught herself in last minute hesitation. Her usual reservations involved in her speech inability briefly took over in that moment.

But Siffre shook her head; this was no time to be reserved- Lydia needed help, and she had to do her part to make sure she would be alright! A quick exhale of breath, and Siffre tried again.

"Um... hello?" she softly tried to call out. The air before her vibrated softly as well, "Is-Is anyone here?" Looking all around, there were still no Greybeards to be seen. Listening in she also couldn't hear any footsteps either.

"H-Hello?!" Siffre raised her voice a little, and the air before her vibrated harder, "Are the Greybeards here...?" The vibrations subsided, and suddenly she could hear it. The sound of footsteps... multiple ones, from... all around? She looked all around her, anxiety gripping her, causing her to grip Lydia's hand over her shoulder in return.

There lay three sets of stairs leading to three different rooms away from this one; single ones to the side rooms, and two leading to the one directly in front of her. Suddenly, all at once, four shadowed figures appeared at the top of each set of stairs and began to descend them. Siffre's eyes darted back and forth between each one. As nothing more than silhouettes, each one looked identical to the other- a robed, hooded man with a beard.

As they stepped into the more illuminated parts of this room, all four could be seen in much clearer detail. Their robes were shaded the same color as their beards, but each beard was styled differently. On of the beards was single-braided, while another's was bushy and unkempt. Strange as it was to think, how different each beard looked from the other might be the only way Siffre could tell each one apart, since they all were hooded to conceal the rest of their heads. Every other part of their bodies looked identical to their peers; practically clones.

The four hooded men stood just on the edge of the illumination, looking inward at the two women. Unlike Siffre's face who was no doubt holding concern and worry for the woman she was supporting, these mens' faces remained neutral and calm. Siffre's eyes began to narrow with confusion; she was standing here supporting an injured Lydia, and they were simply standing there, looking at them?

"Um..." she spoke softly again, "Hello?" None of the four men responded to her, but gave the most subtle of nods to her, "Er... please... Lydia..." a subtle gesture of her own to her housecarl, "Injured! Can you help...?" None of the four men moved immediately. In fact, they seemed to study Siffre and Lydia even more after hearing her plea. At least, that was what Siffre was interpreting from reading their faces. Why weren't they immediately doing anything?

Then, one of the Greybeards turned to two of his fellows, they turning to face him in turn. A single nod, a gesture of his hand, and they moved forward towards Siffre. She tensed from this unexpected movement, carefully watching them for the slightest hint of ill they might mean to her or Lydia. However, they moved closer to her so calmly, hardly rushing in fact. Even as they moved closer for their faces to be seen clearer, they still didn't appear to betray any emotion. A simple unspoken command being carried out, nothing more.

They now stood before Siffre and offered their own arms out, their intentions now clear. Siffre looked back and forth between them and her barely conscious housecarl. Reluctantly, she passed her to them. Lydia herself let out a light moan from the changing of carriers. At least now she was being supported by two people under both of her arms as opposed to before.

Turning around the two Greybeards slowly moved Lydia towards the left side stairs, the third Greybeard right behind them. Taking this as a cue, Siffre herself moved to follow them as well. However, that same Greybeard held his hand out, halting her from following. Her eyes narrowed in confusion and concern and her mouth started to open to protest. But the man simply shook his head softly. It wasn't a harsh deterrent, and his facial expressions were gentle. In that moment, there was understanding without a single word being exchanged.

Siffre may not have liked it, but she still understood.

With that she stayed behind as the three men escorted her housecarl up the stairs and through to the next room. Once they were out of sight, Siffre could feel the tension within her fading away. Or was it only returning stronger? It seemed like they had understood what she'd wanted- for Lydia to be treated somehow. But... shouldn't she be there for her as well? Wasn't there anything more she could do? In fact, she was bordering on unconscious moments ago; would she need to be there when she came to?

In the midst of her mental pondering, Siffre had almost not noticed the fourth Greybeard still remaining. He stood within the light of this room, and thus detail of his beard could be seen clearer. In comparison to the others, this one's beard reached so low that it was about the exact length of his face. It was by far the longest beard out of the four that Siffre had seen among them. He stood with his hands held in front of him, and his face was completely neutral; void of emotion. His eyes studied the woman, even as hers regarded him with uncertainty.

"Will she... will they help her...?" Siffre's voice lowered again, and yet the tiniest of vibrations could be felt in spite of her volume. The man did not reply verbally, but he still did nod his head once with closed eyes. Normally a nod would be a clear answer, but the way this man responded exactly left Siffre confused.

Before she could press any inquiry, the man motioned for her to follow him. He advanced towards the center of this chamber, Siffre slowly following behind him. He stopped in place as he stood on the edge of the overhead light's reach, Siffre doing the same at the edge opposite him. Slowly he dropped himself down to sit on his bent knees and legs. Looking up at Siffre, he motioned at the floor beneath her that she do the same.

"Er..." Siffre watched how the man had situated himself, and was now wanting her to do the same. Wouldn't it hurt to sit on your legs like that? Nonetheless, she slowly brought herself down to the same kneeling position the man was in.

She was right- this was not feeling good for her legs...

Tearing herself away from her discomfort, she looked back up at the Greybeard. He was looking back at her. This time, while his eyes held that same studious gaze in them, the corners of his mouth had curved up ever so slightly. Moments of complete silence passed between them.

"So... you are... a Greybeard?" Siffre finally asked. Her speech was silent this time, not wanting to risk any vibrations slip through in her voice. The man again did not respond in any verbal way. Instead, in a single motion, he bowed his head in a single nod, his eyes closing and reopening. And then, his mouth suddenly opened,

"Einarth..." The familiar sensation of vibrations rumbled throughout this building. Not only that, but Siffre felt her entire being shake as well. Her eyes widened and this discovery and revelation. She knew this feeling from personal experience! Someone who's own voice caused heavy vibrations, much like hers?! Incredible! In one single moment, she no longer felt alone to such a degree.

"You..." she breathed, "Your voice... it's like mine." Excitement had unintentionally crept into her statement, and the air in front of her definitely vibrated. The man, Einarth, nodded a clear nod this time, as if these same unseen forces leveled straight at him were completely unnoticed. He gestured to himself and spoke softly again,

"Einarth, in do fin Thu'um." The man was barely speaking above a whisper, yet these vibrations continued to cause a persistent rumble all throughout the building. Siffre glanced all around her every once in a while. How had this power not caused this entire building to collapse from it? Or was this building itself more stable and well-made than she'd expected, even after all these years?

Perhaps it had to be, if it was home to such powerful voices that this man, as well as his compatriots, held and expressed.

Despite not understanding a word he just spoke, she could hear the word Thu'um be mentioned. Feeling suddenly more emboldened, Siffre pointed a finger to herself and spoke,

"Siffre." She'd purposely raised her tone to match what she thought this man was speaking at. As expected, vibrations left her mouth, if a little differently. Whereas Einarth's very voice caused the entire building to rumble, her's only caused vibrations in the general direction of where she faced.

As before, Einarth nodded, gestured to himself, and spoke again,

"Wuth ahrk onik, Sadonvum." Unlike before, Siffre didn't identify anything in what the man had just said. That combined with how the rumbling around her felt loud than usual also made it difficult to understand. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, until Einarth gestured to her herself and spoke again, "Dovahkiin."

Siffre's eyes widened in surprise this time. There was that word again, 'dovahkiin'. And now the very man, or at least one of the men, who had summoned her via that word itself, was now referring to her as such! This feeling was a very humbling one! So much so that Siffre was barely aware of the word escaping her mouth in response, "Dovahkiin".

Her hands shot to her mouth, flustered. Her face flushed not simply because of how randomly she'd uttered that word, but because of how she'd spoken it. Softly and normal volumes blended together, with different vibration forces accompanying it. She almost couldn't look back in Einarth's eyes, lest the embarrassment be too much for her.

Thankfully, the Greybeard simply smiled. He smiled a kind of smile not from pleasure at another's expense, but a sort of understanding smile. How a parent smiles at their child despite knowing of a flaw they've committed. With a hand, he gestured to Siffre and whispered,

"Dovahkiin."

This time, unlike before, there were no deep rumbles throughout the building. The man had whispered the word and not allowed his own voice to be raised higher than that. He gestured to Siffre again, as if to tell her to repeat his action.

She recomposed herself, and whispered, "Dovahkiin." Like him, no vibrations exited her mouth. Einarth nodded, approving of this action.

"Dovahkiin..." He spoke again, this time halfway through the word slowly and deliberately raising his personal voice to just barely above whispering. At first no rumbling vibrations were then followed by steadily growing vibrations coinciding with his volume change. This was a detail Siffre noted, and quickly picked up on that he wanted her to repeat his action.

"Dovahkiin..." She spoke the word, trying her best to raise her voice accordingly to what was instructed. The non-vibrating whisper was followed by slowly growing vibrations from her mouth. For the most part her vocal change matched Einarth's, if a little more sharper than his. However Einarth appeared to approve of her attempt, as shown by his single nod.

"Dov-AAAHHH-KIIiinnn..." Einarth's next vocal instruction was incredibly varied. He started off at speaking volume, then reaching mid-word his volume quickly shifted up to loud, and finally descending his volume to finish the word. The accompanying rumbling vibrations almost shook Siffre off of her kneeling legs. The deepness of the vibrations reached through her ears, and her sense of balance was almost thrown off. She found herself holding her arms out in a futile attempt to re-balance herself.

Finally the rumbling ceased, and everything was calm again, at least in Siffre's eyes and ears. A moment of reorienting herself, and she had snapped back to reality; Einarth was gesturing to her, albeit patiently. Even after that insane display, he was still asking her to replicate what he'd done! Could she even do that? She had never raised her voice higher to that of shouting before, at least on purpose. Well, these impromptu exercises were something of new experiences for her, and something she hadn't tried before... Here goes...

"Do- DovaaAAAAHHH... AHH-KIIIIiin..." Siffre tried her best to recreate Einarth's precise volume pattern: speaking volume, raised to shouting, then descend to softly again. As she spoke the word according to this man's specifications, she could hear just how different she was making the word sound, not only out loud and out of her body, but within herself as well. It was a heavy rattling she felt within her very core, the higher she tried to raise her voice. It was highly noticeable in comparison to softer tones both before and after it. In front of her she could feel the vibrations exit her throat, and she watched in concern for if they would somehow impact Einarth somehow. Thankfully the man continued to kneel in place, still unfazed by the Voice's effects focused straight upon him.

He watched and listened to her replicate his sound as well. His face still did not betray any other emotion. When she finished, and after allowing a moment for her to regain composure, he gave a shorter nod to her attempt. He gave another gesture of his hand, but this one was different; it appeared he wanted Siffre to try that vocal pattern again.

Siffre's eyes narrowed, but with a sigh, she tried it again. This time she tried to focus on having no breaks and pronouncing the word as singular and unbroken. Clearly there was more to this exercise than met the eye, or rather ear.

* * *

Her eyes slowly began to open, yet she was still greeted by the sight of darkness. No, wait... Not complete darkness. There was light; a soft glow of orange yellow light, illuminating the darkness. She didn't know what that light was, but her eyes felt drawn to it, compelled to it even...

Lydia's hazed state slowly broke as she regained her senses. The soft orange glow her eyes had been drawn to was a small candle to her side. It bathed her in a warm ray of light and warmth. But wait; wouldn't heat from a candle feel warmer? Hotter even? She was warm now, but this warmth she was feeling didn't feel like correctly matched. She brought her gaze down to her body and found some cloth covering it entirely. What was this, a blanket? Where did this come from? Where was she?

Her hands slowly began to shift underneath this blanket, while at the same time feeling around at what was underneath this cloth. It was at this moment she made two discoveries: the first was that she was laying upon some soft surface, a bed perhaps? And the second was that she was feeling the cloth of her tunic; her armor was not on her body!

As her mind began to panic, her hands shifted even more until one of them made contact with her side. In that instant, massive jolts of pain shot up her body. She grimaced and groaned, memories suddenly reforming in her mind. That damned frost troll had pounded against her with its arms, probably even broke a rib or two. But then, she remembered walking a little further up those steps, then collapsing into the icy snow, and... everything went fuzzy from there.

So then, where was she now? And how did she get here?

As these questions began to take the forefront of her mind, Lydia became aware of some kind or rumbling through the very walls that surrounded her. Her eyes widened, and she tried to shift herself up to sitting position in her panic. This sound, this vibration! Whatever it was, it felt like it could cause everything to come crashing down upon her! It would've been bad enough being buried before, but now without her armor on her body, she felt even more vulnerable.

"Ah... you are awake."

While still in her alarmed state, Lydia was still caught off guard by that seemingly out of nowhere statement. Not simply just the statement, but also in how it was uttered so nonchalantly. She slowly turned her head to where she was certain its source was.

On the other side of the nightstand with the glowing candle was a chair, with a man sitting in it. This man was wearing a dark gray, almost coal-blackened robe which concealed almost all of his natural body. Only his bare hands and the front of his face were exposed, while a drawn hood kept the rest of his head shrouded. He was looking in her direction, but an open book in his lap suggested he'd been reading moments earlier. He looked at her with calm eyes, which Lydia was drawn to. There wasn't anything necessarily frightening about this man. If anything it seemed as if he'd been just sitting there and her jostling movements had disturbed him.

"Please, try not to move excessively; you still need time to heal properly," the man calmly ordered. Lydia had every right to refuse this order in such strange territory, but his tone held no negative tone to it at all. He sounded genuinely concerned for her well-being.

It was enough that Lydia still calmed her movements, yet still pulled herself back deeper under the covers.

"Um... what is going on?" she cautiously asked, while staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at him, "Where am I?'

"Consider yourself fortunate, child," the man said, "You were brought here in a most troubling state; wounded, and barely conscious." Lydia's one eye glanced over to the man to see he still was calmly looking in her direction, "Had you been brought here mere minutes later... well, it's fortunate that was not the case."

"Wounded...?" Lydia spoke, her hand drifted to her side. It was then that she was reminded that her armor was absent, and her anxiety flared up again, "Wait, where is my armor?"

"To sufficiently treat your injury, all obstructions had to be removed," the man replied, then gestured his hand off to the side. Lydia looked over to where he pointed to find her armor neatly folded on another nearby chair, not far from this bed she lay in. Even from this distance, she could see dents and scratches on the steel plating, ruining its once pristine image. But the fact that her armor was there in the first place drew another thought to her mind, one that made her grow steadily uncomfortable. However, as if somehow already knowing what she was going to say, the man spoke up first, "Rest assured... we were respectful."

The robed man then slowly stood up from his chair and turned in front of the nightstand between them. He reached down and picked up a small cup filled with something and carefully brought it closer to Lydia, "Here, now that you are awake, please drink this..." Lydia looked at the man, but still took the cup in one hand. She brought it closer to her mouth and sniffed its vapors. The aroma was... warm, and savory. It must have been heated recently. Cautiously she took small sips of the cup's contents. The savory smell now bathed her mouth with its flavor, and Lydia quickly downed its contents, letting out a satisfied sigh upon finishing.

"Thank you..." she said, handing the cup back to him, "What was that?"

"It was a simple soup recipe," he replied, placing the coup back on the nightstand, "It is something that we partake in to ward off occasional sickness ourselves..."

"Huh?" Lydia's ears perked up, "'Our'? Is there someone else here?"

"But of course, child," the man said, "I study with my fellow Greybeards, in these hallowed halls of High Hrothgar."

Lydia almost audibly gasped at this realization, her gasp unintentionally coinciding with another bout of deep rumbles through out this building. The building she now was informed was High Hrothgar! THE High Hrothgar! And this very man that she was speaking to, that she had the honor of speaking to? He was a Greybeard?! A master of a Voice so powerful that even a whisper could potentially kill someone?! And yet, here he was before her, caring for her while speaking like a normal person, with a normal-sounding voice!

If Lydia wasn't lying in a bed already, she might have dropped down to her knees.

"Th-The Greybeards..." she stammered, "THE Greybeards! I'm... it's an honor!"

"Your flattery is appreciated, but ultimately unnecessary," the man said, "Contrary to how vanity portrays us, we are and and always will be followers of the Way of the Voice."

"But, well I mean..." Lydia said, slightly put off from the man not exuding the similar level of awe that her mind had conjured up, "We've been trying to get here, to find you!"

"Indeed...?" the man asked. At that moment, before either could say anything further, they were reminded of the deep rumbling vibrations throughout High Hrothgar's walls, with faint voices accompanying them. Lydia's eyes remained in awe, while the man's glimmered with revelation, "Ah... I see..." He glanced back to Lydia, "Your companion... she possesses the Thu'um?"

"Yes," Lydia said, "She is Dragonborn." At her reply, the man looks at her, but he slowly turns his head in the direction of the end of their room with his own eyes widening in their own sense of wonder and awe. Lydia could hear him sigh with satisfaction.

"So... we summon for the Dragonborn, and a Dragonborn appears," he said, then slowly looks back at her, "While at the same time, bringing you with her; tell me, what is your relation to her?"

"Me?" Lydia said, feeling slightly anxious at the sudden attention shift to her, even just from one person, "I... I'm her housecarl. She is Jarl Balgruuf's Thane of Whiterun, and I am her protector."

"Balgruuf... Balgruuf the Fledgling..." he spoke, earning him a look from Lydia, "But, if you claim him to be Jarl of Whiterun, I assume that is longer his name?"

"He is Jarl Balgruuf the Greater," Lydia replied, a little snappier than was necessary. In that moment, she found she had involuntarily shifted herself more to sitting position, the sudden jolt of pain in her side reminding her of her sudden action. The corners of this man's mouth curved up in a small smile, and he nodded once.

"The Dragonborn heeds our summons, accompanied by a guardian outside of a designated Hold..." the man openly pondered. The more this man spoke, the more Lydia felt tension growing within herself. There was frustration, but... what exactly was working her up like this?

"Just what are you implying, exactly?" she asked. The man looked back at her, hands held in front of him.

"Forgive me, it was not my intention to appear impertinent, but rather I seek to understand," the man said in what sounded like an apologetic tone, "I feel It important that all parties involved know exactly where they themselves and others stand..." A moment's silence, and he spoke again, "I apologize, for I must speak with the Dragonborn. Know that you are not a prisoner; you may leave when you are feeling able, as your wound has stopped bleeding by now, though more rest would be recommended..." And with that, he calmly walked across the room and rounded the corner out of sight, leaving the woman alone.

Lydia was left sitting on the bed, her mind a flurry of thoughts and emotions, all from a simple exchange of words. She rubbed her head through her hair with her bare hand. Her other hand slowly drifted down to her once bleeding injured side. True to what the man had said, blood was no longer free-flowing from that spot. Upon further inspection, there was also a thinner layer of linen wrap circling her entire waist underneath her tunic. Embarrassment and gratitude wrestled within her at this discovery.

Yet despite what she felt from that, she slowly slid her legs over the bed to touch down onto the ground. Her bare feet were immediately greeted by the sharp cold of the stone floor, causing her to exhale sharply.

This man, that wise Greybeard, he didn't seem like he was prying with his line of questioning. Ironically, his questioning ended up leaving Lydia with questions of her own...

Mostly involving herself, and her Thane.

* * *

"DOOVAAAAHKIIIIN!" Siffre uttered yet again. By now she'd lost track of how long this particular exercise had been ongoing for her. What felt like long minutes? Hours? All from performing this vocal exercise.

Not that Siffre was complaining.

In fact, she was very glad to have done it. She was slow to grasp at first, but was now understanding quite the impact they were having for her. By uttering words at different volumes, she felt a better mental gauge for how strong the vibrations were that exited her mouth. The louder or harder she spoke, the more potent the vibrations. But through listening to Einarth's demonstrations, and through her attempts to recreate them, she grew accustomed to producing better control over vibrations, especially at these louder volumes.

A part of her wondered... would this also ever help her to speak, like a normal person?

At some point Siffre heard the sound of footsteps from off to the side. She glanced over to see one of the other Greybeards emerge from the side room, while the other two entered into this main chamber from the back section. Those two were the ones with the un-styled beards, while the single one's beard was styled in a single braid.

Siffre and Einarth ceased their vocal exercises as the three others joined them, the latter rising to his feet. Seeing this, Siffre did the same, and was greeted to the feeling of soreness on her ankles and her calf muscles. As those weren't sore enough already...

"Dragonborn, on behalf of the Greybeards, I welcome you to High Hrothgar," the braided Greybeard could suddenly be heard speaking. Siffre was visibly put off guard! Up until now, with her 'conversations' with Einarth, she'd assumed all the Greybeards had a complete inability to speak, save for power-filled Voices as their only communication. They were capable of speech?! And flawless speech at that?!

Her eyes shot back and forth between that man and Einarth, occasionally sparing glances at the other two as well.

"You can-" she started, but caught herself upon hearing the wrong vibrations emerge via incorrect volume. Clearing her throat she tried to speak again, "You can... talk?"

"That I can, Dragonborn," the man said, "My name is Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards, metaphorically, as well as physically..." A gesturing hand indicated to his three colleagues, "The other Greybeards' Voices are too powerfully trained in the Way." Siffre blinked.

"But... how?"

"As students of the Way of the Voice, we have voluntarily made the personal sacrifice to abandon our former lives, and dedicate ourselves purely to study and worship," the speaking Greybeard, 'Arngeir', explained, "But for some of us, the sacrifices run deeper, and are much more demanding..."

"Oh..." Siffre said softly. These men had normal voices at one point, but chose to give them up? This Voice really was that powerful, wasn't it. Before she could ask more about that, another thought crossed her mind; a very important one, "Wait, Lydia! Is she...?"

"Ah, your companion?" Arngeir asked, "You need not fret, Dragonborn; her wounds have been tended to, and will make a full recovery. She had woken up a few minutes ago..." Siffre sighed with relief; Lydia would be alright, even after so close an encounter with the frost troll, "However, some time alone to rest would be recommended, for herself, and also... for you."

Siffre blinked, "Me?"

"Indeed," Arngeir explained, "We'd heard the Shout not too long ago, proclaimed our summon for the Dragonborn, and here you are now." Siffre's lips pursed lightly at this, and her brow furrowed in thought.

"So... it really is true then?" she said, "Even you... Greybeards, claim me to be... Dragonborn, just like the others did... But, what exactly does that mean? To be Dragonborn...?"

"Hmmm..." Arngeir said, audibly. He held his hands together in front of him, closed his eyes, and bowed his head in thought, "That question in itself carries more weight than you may believe. It is clear that your destiny is tied directly to that of being what you are... but, is that all there is to it? Is Dragonborn all you are meant to be, or does your future hold more in store for you?" His hands broke apart and moved back to his sides, "Ultimately... your destiny is that of your own making, as well as what you yourself must discover."

Arngeir looked back up at Siffre's eyes, "But to answer your question- What does it mean to be Dragonborn? Ah... perhaps you were expecting a more 'immediate and descriptive' answer..." He made a gesture with his hand to the center of the chamber, where the light from shone straight down from above. He and his fellow Greybeards themselves moved to stand on the very outer edges of the light. Seeing this, Siffre moved herself to stand in the very center of the light, with Arngeir directly in front of her.

"To be Dragonborn... it means to be uniquely gifted not only in the Voice, but also in its usage and application," Arngeir explained.

"But then..." Siffre suddenly spoke up, "Does that mean... if you four have this Voice... Are all of you also Dragonborn?"

"No no," Arngeir quickly dismissed with a waved hand, "A complete misconception, though it is understandable how one would think this. You see, any Nord can learn Kynareth's sacred language, the Dragon Tongue, with enough time, temperament, and of course conviction. But you... You are Dragonborn, which means... You were blessed directly by Akatosh himself with the ability to learn and speak as dragons do." Siffre rubbed her right hand along her left arm, nervously.

"W-what..." she uttered, tiny ripples of vibration rumbling through the air, "A-are you... are you saying... I'm related to a Divine?!"

"Please, be at ease, child," Arngeir said, clearly sensing her distress, "I'm sure that implication is not to be take quite so literally... You should instead think of this as a general passing of knowledge." Suddenly the building began to rumble, completely throwing Siffre off guard, but not off balance, fortunately. This was accompanied by a speaking voice directly behind Siffre.

"Rek fen tinvaak, Arngeir," Siffre spun her had around her shoulder to see that one of the Greybeards had indeed spoken.

"Hm yes, excellent idea, Borri," Arngeir's voice was heard again, causing Siffre to spin her head back to face forward.

"Huh? What just happened?" she said.

"Master Borri has proposed a demonstration be in order," Arngeir said, "Come, Dragonborn, let us taste of your Voice." Before she even knew what was happening, the Greybeards were moving again. This time, while hugging along the edge of the light, they re-positioned themselves to be standing side-by-side. All four Greybeards were standing clumped closer together, and Siffre quickly caught on to the meaning.

"You... you really want me to... Shout at you?" Her question earned her a nod from at least two of the Greybeards, "B-but, will I hurt you, if I do this...?"

"We have trained and studied in not only the Thu'um's usage, but also in resistance to it," Arngeir said, "I assure you, we will not be harmed." Siffre blinked once, then twice. Not once in between those blinks did the calm faces of the Greybeards change. Looking back at her, it's clear that they were serious. Siffre took a deep breath, held it in, and slowly exhaled, slowly feeling her heartbeat slow down in tandem.

She stared at the four robed men standing before her, and drew another deep breath, while also trying to remember what exactly the word was that she's Shouted before...

"Fus...!" Siffre blinked with narrowed eyes this time. That wasn't what she was expecting. Well, in that she was expecting 'something' to happen! But all that exited her mouth was the word itself, not that grand Thu'um blast that others have come to expect from her!

How can this be?! The one time she actually needed to Shout on cue, but nothing would happen?

As if in direct opposition to her current thoughts, the Greybeards continued to stare at her, expectedly. Their faces did not display any extreme emotions, but instead those of careful neutrality. That is until Einarth's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Fin Fus Thu'um," he spoke softly. His tone was soft, almost whispering, yet the walls still rumbled just ever so slightly. Arngeir regarded his colleague and his comment.

"W-what? Why is... nothing happening?"

"Interesting... This Thu'um you are attempting to produce," Arngeir said, "It is 'Fus', is it not?"

"Fus..." Siffre said after giving it brief thought, "Yes.. yes, I remember... that's the word I was trying to Shout..."

"Then here is your first lesson," Arngeir said, "You must know what a word is before attempting to speak it. The word 'Fus', it means 'Force' in the Dragon Tongue."

"Force," Siffre said. As she uttered that word, her two hands involuntarily swing-twitched forward, a half-hearted attempt to push emptiness in front of her. That did make sense to her in a way, those two words did sound alike after all, "So when I Shout that word... everything in front of me gets blown away?"

"A rough and crude interpretation, but not inaccurate..." the Greybeard said, "It is a word used in the 'Unrelenting Force' Shout. Your Thu'um becomes an unstoppable 'force', and unceasingly pushes away all before you."

He then blinked and tilted his head as he looked at her, "And also remember: you must hear the word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um. This directly leads to the second lesson: Your inner spirit and your outward body and actions must be in harmony and in union with one another. Only then will personal balance be achieved, and your Thu'um will follow suit..."

Siffre listened to this Greybeard's instructions. Inner spirit, with body? How exactly does she do that? And moreover, how was she able to do it before?

She thought back to the last time she'd used the Shout. When was it...? Oh yes, the frost troll. Her mind's eye painted a reminder of its snarling, saliva-dripping maw. Its beady eyes bearing down on her with its sneering look. And how it... How it almost killed Lydia. How did she feel at the time? What did she feel? She felt scared, she felt pained, she felt... an urge. She'd felt an urge to want things to change, to alter an outcome that by all accounts she might not have made much difference in, but she had to do something. She had to save her... her...

Her friend.

The tension in Siffre's eyes relaxed in that moment. In fact, all tension she didn't know she'd been holding within her was feeling more relaxed the more she realized. Lydia was a friend she wanted to protect, and she felt her body relaxing, as if prepping itself to do so!

One last inhale through her nose, and she released both her breath and this feeling in one burst,

**"FUS!"**

* * *

-It wasn't my initial intention to break the Greybeard encounter into multiple parts, but in the end that's what I found I had to do considering the exact content I have in mind. I also apologize if the word count for each chapter isn't as long or as great as chapter 5's was; that last time was a mere coincidence, and also my usual attempts at word count per chapters I try not to reach so high (simply consult my other stories' chapter lengths to see what I mean).

But anyway, let me all know what you think so far! I've still got more ideas underway that I'd like to try and explore and give my own take on! See you then!-


	7. Chapter 7

-Last chapter's reactions definitely held something new for me. Out of all the stories and chapters I've written over the years, I don't think I've ever received a critical review of any of them; someone so invested in something I've created that they'd go to the trouble to describe what they didn't like or wish had been different in what ways! But don't misunderstand, Drouppi, your review did not upset me in the slightest; in fact it was an eye-opener for me and for things to consider in the future. In fact, it's helping me develop some points for the next chapter...

But ANYway, this chapter was really fun to delve into and describe! Training with the Greybeards, with some minor changes here and there. Enjoy!-

* * *

One last tightened strap, and the armor was back in place. The front breastplate put pressure on her own chest, and yet Lydia still felt herself breathe a little easier. It felt good to be donned in her armor once again. Beaten and battered as it was, it still felt better than nothing. Better than nothing...

On impulse, she looked again at her armor pile in search of something. She felt her heart sink when she did not find what she was searching for- her sword! Where was it?! Had the Greybeards done something with it? Why was it not with-

She let out a sudden breath of relief when a thought entered her head. Her memories reminded her that she had given her sword to Siffre. After all, she remembered it being the correct thing to do at the time; she had just lost her sword, and she was not in good physical health to fight, nor defend with her own. There was comfort in now knowing where it was... as well as in good hands. But... Did she still have it now? And, where was she right now, even?

Siffre. Her thane. For some reason, the Greybeard's words still lingered within her head. It was hardly a noteworthy observation, and yet Lydia's thoughts persisted on what he'd asked. All he'd done was draw brief mention to what her role was regarding her. She was the housecarl to her thane, who was the Dragonborn. There wasn't anything that complicated to understand from that, was there? So then... Just how far did this assigned duty of hers reach? She knew that she'd agreed to help her in reaching this place to meet the Greybeards to help with her Voice, but what was to happen after this? What was next in store?

Yes, she'd definitely have to talk with her about this at the next opportunity.

For now, she sat herself down on the chair and began putting her boots on her feet. Her foot-wraps were still on her feet and hardly affected by any moisture, so they'd be fine to reuse for now. Her feet slipped back into her boots and they were greeted by the old familiar feeling of all around warmth. And her toes had just enough wiggle room in them to not feel too snug.

As she now began to refasten her gauntlets over her arms and hands, the sound and feeling of vibrations and Shouts could be heard not too far away. It felt like they were originating from a few rooms over. It had to be her thane over there, using her Thu'um! She'd never heard her use it repeatedly after a single use before. Had she always been able to do that? Or was this some new trick the Greybeards were teaching her to do?

"Whatever it is, it's impressive... There, that should do it," she said to herself. Her gauntlets fastened, she reached over to take her shield in her left hand, "Now, didn't I see him go that way...?" She took a cautious step forward, and was greeted by soreness creeping up her side. Fortunately it felt like the kind of soreness that could easily be worked out of her body. Her feet needed blood to flow through them again, and her midsection obviously held a stinging soreness to it which thankfully wasn't hindering her too much. She could power through this pain. She walked forward and turned around the corner as she'd seen the Greybeard do.

It turned out what greeted her was a longer hallway. A longer, slightly darkened hallway with, thin, transparent walls spaced periodically to allow outside light through. As she walked through it, Lydia looked closer at the stonework. It was far darker than any she'd seen in Skyrim before. Living in a place like Whiterun where the sun shone very often told her that most everything became bleached when left out in the sun for long. Thus it felt like the complete opposite in this case with how the stones appeared to be so dark and black. Perhaps because light from outdoors could never reach it? Or was it that despite being on a mountain, so close to the sky, the sun still couldn't reach it through the thick clouds surrounding it?

She casually dragged her hand along the wall as she walked, getting a feel of it. The stonework had a rough and course looking texture, but to her surprise it felt smooth to the touch. There was also the fact that her fingers did not track any dust while touching it. These Greybeards must keep this place clean constantly...

As she walked, a sound of thunder suddenly cracked within these walls. Both of her hands shot up to clamp over her ears. In the process, she'd dropped her shield and let it clatter noisily to the ground. The sound of her shield could barely be heard over the sound of... whatever that was! Lydia's face scrunched in pain, and her eardrums were crying out for mercy.

"Gaah...!" she uttered. What was that?! Was that a lightning bolt of a thunderstorm that had just cracked indoors?! Even when it eventually subsided, Lydia's body still felt aftershocks from the vibrations that had accompanied it.

Wait a minute, vibrations... could it be? The Thu'um being used again? By who, her Thane? Had she made a Shout that was somehow powerful than what Lydia had heard before. Or... what if it was the Greybeards themselves? What if they were using some kind of Shout, or... on her somehow? They were masters of this Voice after all, so it wasn't impossible to assume that.

Whatever it was, Lydia intended to find her thane, now. She took a moment to regain her mental focus, then started to walk again. She only took a step however when she realized that she had dropped her shield. She reached back down to rejoin it with her left hand and then proceeded to walk the halls again.

The hall itself seemed to stretch forward many feet, towards what appeared to be a dead end. But thankfully, it would seem Lydia would not have to walk that far, as corner appeared off to the right side of the hallway about mid way. It was around this point that Lydia started to hear voices. Well, not 'Voices', but actual voices; like the sound of actual words being conversed. There was no doubt in Lydia's mind anymore, she would find who she was looking for around this corner. With a noticeably quickened step, she rounded the corner.

What greeted her was what she was expecting and hoping to see. There she was, her thane, standing in the center of an enlarged chamber, an entry-room, with a large ray of light shining down from above. She stood there, her back to her, facing in the direction of the doors that could be seen off to the back, but she herself wasn't looking at the doors. Instead, Lydia could see four Greybeards standing all around her at the edges of this light, and all were facing her. At the moment, no one was moving a muscle, not the Greybeards looking at her, and not Siffre looking straight at one of them.

Lydia viewed this scene in front of her, and very slowly her eyes began to narrow. What was happening? Why was she just standing there? And what were they doing, just looking at her like that? What were they planning to do? She herself remember feeling the long-distance effects of whatever that 'Shout' was, so... what if they were planning to do something, on some bigger scale, to her? It was a strange positioning for anyone to be in, almost... ritualistic. From this view, Lydia found her own feet moving her forward, intent to find out for sure.

She reached the very top end of the stairs, but hadn't even begun her descent when something else began to happen. The walls, the floor, the very world around her began to shake uncontrollably. Now what was happening, a massive Nirn-quake?! Or worse, they were on a mountain, was this place in the midst of an actual avalanche?! Whatever it was, Lydia's balance was severely threatened, and she found herself wobbling from side to side to steady herself.

And the vibrations! By Ysmir's beard, they felt like they were rattling her down to her very core! While they didn't feel immediately harmful, there was still an overwhelming sense of discomfort occurring. Her very bones were singing a song of torture from within her body! What on Nirn was going on?! Yet somehow, within these tremors, the distinct sound of speaking voices could be heard. Wait, not just speaking voices; the Greybeards' Voices were speaking! Four different voices could be heard saying something, but damned if Lydia could understand, much less care, what was being said! Whatever it was, she had to get away from there...

That is if she could move at all.

Try as she might, she felt herself paralyzed in place, unable to move. The Voice-powered thundering pounded against her from all sides relentlessly. The more she found herself in place, the more Lydia's fear began to rise. This was it, wasn't it? A brand new type of horror befalling her, the likes of which she had never experienced before! She fell to her knees, shield clattering to her side as her hands futilely clutched the sides of her head. A whimper escaped her mouth, which soon evolved into loud moaning, until that finally evolved into full on painful cries.

Then, by whatever God-enacted miracle was at play, everything ceased. No more Voices, no more thunder, no more rumbles, and no more paralyzing vibrations. The assault on her senses finally got a reprieve, though now her mind was a constant ringing in response from the onslaught. Despite everything having stopped, she herself couldn't hold back a couple more cries that exited her mouth. And it was a few moments after everything had stopped that she heard a new sound- the familiar, merciful sound of her thane.

"Lydia!"

* * *

**"FUS!"**

The difference between her first attempt to utter the word and now was as night and day. As she was more aware of the fact that she was doing it purposely this time, she could feel the sheer strength in the power that escaped her lips. As it left, it stretched out in size until a ring of visible air distortion rushed out in front of her... And straight towards the Greybeards. In a brief, half-second moment of panic, Siffre feared what might happen next. Arngeir had assured her that they wouldn't be harmed, but... well, would they really?

Looking forward, she was expecting to not see any Greybeards before her. Which is why she was filled with confusion, surprise, and relief upon seeing this preconception proven false. The four men continued to stand in place, even as the ring of distorted air and vibrations passed well over them. While they continued to stand, the rest of High Hrothgar's walls rumbled slightly, not unlike the similar feeling to when Einarth had spoken earlier and figuratively shook the building. They were completely unflinching, with only the edges of their robes blowing with the artificial force blown upon them.

As the force passed through them, their faces slowly produced smiles. One after another the gave slow nods to each other.

"Ah... yes," Arngeir spoke with content in his voice, "There is no denying any longer that you truly have the inborn gift."

"I do, and I did it that time!" Siffre said, "I remember thinking how... how I could change something... and that this Voice could do that."

"The Voice of the Gods is truly a gift upon mortal men, a blessing of immeasurable power," Arngeir said, "So easy then it would be to fall into the temptation of self-indulgence. It is precisely the reason our founder first founded the Way of the Voice: a reminder that it is be used solely in worship of the Gods, not for mortals' benefit."

"What?" Siffre said with narrowed eyes, "B-but, with this Voice... you could do anything, help anyone! Why would you want to... hold back?"

"Because, that was precisely the reason that had led to how it is to be used," Arngeir explained, "During the Battle at Red Mountain, many years ago, our Founder, Jurgen Wind-Caller, led the Nord army of other Voice-wielders into battle. They also held the mindset that the Voice would change the world and benefit it in small ways. And yet despite that... the army was annihilated, leaving our Founder as the sole survivor.

"Thus, after spending many years pondering the meaning of that absolute defeat, he came to the conclusion that the Gods themselves had punished mortals for arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice. Blessed with this knowledge, Jurgen Wind-Caller dedicated his life to spreading his teachings to potential followers, that the Voice be used for its original intent: worship and reverence of the Gods who had first bestowed it to them in the first place."

Siffre looked away while rubbing her chin. So that's why these men seemed like this, so... passive and reserved. That was why they were living so far away from everyone, and everything. So that they wouldn't be tempted to use the Voice for anyone else? It still didn't make that much sense in Siffre's mind, if one had a great power within them, why couldn't they be allowed to use it as they saw fit? In fact...

"So then... what about me? Am I not allowed... to use my Voice just as you don't?"

"Hmmm..." Arngeir said thoughtfully, "You, Dragonborn, are actually the sole exception to this rule. The reason being that your very Dragon blood you have in you in itself was a gift from Akatosh himself. It also means that as you were brought into this world for some divine purpose, you transcend the rules and restrictions, which bind other mortals, in pursuit of some divine goal. Whatever this goal might be... It is as I have mentioned earlier regarding destiny, something you must discover... Thus, that is why we are here for you; we can show you the Way, but not your destination."

"I... I see..." Siffre said. Some divine purpose? This felt a little... extravagant. For someone who grew up alone as Siffre did, being the subject of some Gods-driven goal was almost impossible for her to believe. But then again, so was the fact that she was Dragonborn, and that was something that was slowly starting to grow on her. At least she could do something with her Voice in the immediate days to come, "Then... I've mastered this Thu'um of mine by now, haven't I?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Arngeir said, earning him a confused look from Siffre, "You have shown the ability to Shout a word of a Thu'um. This in itself is a great feat, one that not many mortals can say without boast. However, your entire Shout in itself at present can always be... hm, shall we say, 'improved'."

"What do you mean?" Siffre said, "This Shout already feels... powerful."

"It is true that all words of power in themselves are immeasurable," Arngeir said, "However, that is not the entire truth. As it has always been, all Shouts are made of three words of power, not just one. As a new word is learned and mastered, the Thu'um will also grow in strength."

"Huh?!" Siffre uttered. There was more?! This Shout could be improved even further than where it was now?! By the Gods, if only she'd had this power earlier... back with Lydia and the troll... maybe a bigger difference could've been made in that fight! Both of them might've even had a better chance of coming out completely unscathed!

And now that the means was a definite possibility, she knew one thing for sure, "I have to know more... please."

"Well... as it was I who suggested it in the first place, I suppose it only proper to follow through," Arngeir said, "Although it is best you exercise caution, Dragonborn; growing your gift too quickly would be dangerous."

"I'll be careful...!" Siffre assured him.

"Very well," Arngeir said with a sigh, "As you've been informed, the word you have demonstrated is 'Fus', or 'Force', used in the Unrelenting Force Shout. As it happens, one of us is a proficient study in that particular Shout." He turned to glance at the sole Greybeard colleague standing on his right, "Master Einarth will teach you the next word." Siffre watched as the man in question stepped forward into the light, with reasonable enough distance still between them. She tilted her head, the same Greybeard that had been helping her with controlling her personal volume? He also held knowledge of the very Shout she herself had? What were the chances?

"Um, how is this going to-"

"Ro." Her comment was completely cut off. Einarth looked at the ground between them, waved his hand, and silently spoke this single word. The moment he did, a translucent wave exited his own mouth and shot straight into the ground. The moment it made contact, the very stone between them appeared to form scratches, or... no. Something else was taking shape!

What initially appeared as simple scratch lines and a trio of dots Siffre should've immediately dismissed as nonsense, but she could not do that. In fact, seeing these very markings again struck memories within her again. The very same ones she'd seen in Bleak Falls Barrow! Those were found on that strange, curved, hollowed out stone in that massive chamber. And this man had just created these very markings with a simple uttering of his own Voice! Did... were those markings put there by these men, or even men like them, this whole time...?

Also just like in that cave, the set of markings began to glow before Siffre's eyes, and she felt herself drawn to it. She stared at it, the glowing growing ever brighter. The brightness should be having and adverse effect on her eyesight, but quite the opposite was happening. She began to see the markings clearer and clearer. They engraved themselves into her mental vision, and she saw them... shifting. Changing shape. The more they changed, the more she came to understand. In her mind, the markings did not read as simple scratches, but now formed something else, something familiar to her...

Ro.

And just like that, the glowing from the markings dimmed considerably until there was nothing left. Well, not entirely nothing left; she was left now with knowledge.

"Ro..." she whispered, "It... it means... 'Balance', in the... I-I saw it, in my mind!"

"You learn a new word like a master..." Arngeir could be heard saying softly, as if speaking to himself, "However, learning a word of power is only the beginning; you must unlock it's meaning and potential before using it in a Shout. Fortunately, as you are Dragonborn, you can bypass the lengthy time and study required and absorb a slain dragon's knowledge directly."

"Wait... does that mean..." Siffre said, her heart starting to sink, "Does that mean... I have to slay another dragon?"

"No, no such barbaric methods will be enacted here," Arngeir quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Master Einarth himself will now personally bestow upon you his own accumulated knowledge and understanding of the word 'Ro'."

"Bestow?" That didn't sound quite like the idea of slaying the man and taking his knowledge. How was this to work anyway-?

Before her, Einarth suddenly began to glow, and streams of colored lights radiated off of him... and were automatically attracted to her. Siffre should've been scared by this sudden new development... except that this was also familiar. This was the same as when she'd slain the dragon outside of Whiterun! But back then, she had no idea what was happening, and had every right to be terrified. This time however, she had been personally reassured of what was to come. Plus was the fact that there were no dragons around, living nor dead, to add any layer of fear to her. Bearing all this in mind, Siffre allowed her mind to relax... and absorb the free-flowing knowledge.

She could feel it, somehow physically, as it entered into her head through her eyes, just like first seeing the word. Steadily and steadily, the word began to make sense to her. 'Balance', something to be maintained when applying great pressure from the source, that being herself. What was to stop her from pushing herself back when applying force? Balance.

Finally, the exchange of light and knowledge dimmed until it ceased. Siffre opened her eyes, not even remembering when she'd closed them in the first place. She felt... invigorated. Her Shout had definitely improved and she was eager to test it out!

"Excellent, I can see it in your eyes; an imparted lesson you have accepted into your very being," Arngeir said, "As for the application and usage... I believe there is an exercise of suitable caliber..." Gesturing his hands, he motioned for his fellow Greybeards to move again. Siffre watched as they took their positions around her on the edge of the light's reach, "Now, to your left there," he quickly indicated to her left side, "Master Borri will produce astral projections of himself around you in various positions. Use your improved Unrelenting Force Shout to strike these targets as they appear."

"Astral pro- huh?" Siffre said. What was just spoken to her was a bit much to take in at once, "Wait, what are you- or, is 'he', going to do-?"

**"Fiik, Lo-Sah!" **Siffre yelped in surprise. She hadn't been paying attention to whom Arngeir had just told her to pay attention to! Thus she flinched in place from hearing... the Voice? No, it couldn't have been, or, was this some other Shout?

Whatever had happened, the the air began to visibly distort and change color in a singular location. Energy began to coalesce and solidify until an image was formed. True to what the speaking Greybeard had said would happen, this Master Borri had produced an almost ghostly apparition, a splitting image of himself, standing not more than five feet away from Siffre's left side.

Calming herself, she studied this image for a moment. It simply stared at her, nonspeaking, and unmoving. She tilted her head at it, then looked back at Arngeir with a confused look. Arngeir simply nodded to her, and Siffre looked back at this 'target' with a shrug. She breathed deep, reached for that feeling deep within herself, and let it all escape through her mouth.

**"Fus... Ro!"** The effect of the Shout was different this time around. Firstly there was at least a second of pause in between Siffre first saying the words and the effect. Secondly was the Shout itself; this wave of energy that left her lips felt heavier, more dense than when she'd shouted this Shout before. And it certainly had the desired effect, as the phantom image of Borri was immediately dissipated upon contact, dispersing into small light particles that soon grew smaller than the naked could track.

"Well done," Arngeir said, "Again. This time, pronounce the two words in tandem for quicker and more thorough results."

"Speak the words, quickly? I'll try..." Siffre said.

**"Fiik, Lo-Sah!" **Borri produced another image of himself before Siffre. The Dragonborn felt ready this time. She gathered the feeling from within, but also paid special attention to her lips, her mouth.

**"Fus, Ro!"** The Shout was definitely executed differently this time, and Siffre felt proud of herself for it. Her Shout emerged quicker, having spoken the words closer together, just as how she believed Arngeir had instructed. And just like before, the astral projection was dissipated.

"You learn quickly," the Greybeard said, "Now once more, but this time, the projection will move of its own accord. You must now focus efforts on anticipating where it will go, and strike true."

"A moving target?" Siffre quietly said.

**"Fiik, Lo-Sah!" **When the distorted air settled, true to Arngeir's prediction the spectral image actually walked out of the point of origin towards the back side of the chamber, near where the doors were. However it did not settle on walking towards the doors themselves, instead opting to loop inwards in a way that it was circling the entire room.

"Ah, alright... I think I can get this..." Siffre said. Her eyes themselves kept trained on the image, while they encouraged her head to try to follow along and keep up. Thankfully it was moving a steady and consistent pace, nothing at all too complicated. It was now making its way to the front of the enlarged platform that held the massive brazier atop it, in the center of the split stairs. Unfortunately, to her mild chagrin, Arngeir was standing in that pathway, he could clearly see himself where the apparition was right now, but still refused to move himself. Siffre was forced to side step to the side, around the unmoving Greybeard, and a clearer line of sight with the image.

**"Fus, Ro!"** Her Shout launched forward past Arngeir. Wait, did it actually graze him and he simply not move nor care, or did it actually not hit him? Whichever, the apparition was again struck... as well as the assortment of pottery that had been positioned behind it. The clay pots were knocked on to the ground, some of them rolling around with the flow of the Voice, while others actually shattering into smaller pieces.

"Ah! Oh no..." Siffre said with widened eyes, realizing her mistake too late. She looked back at Arngeir's face, "I'm s-sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Why do you apologize? You have mastered this Shout's next form," he said rather nonchalantly.

"B-but, those pots...!" Siffre pointed at the mess she'd unintentionally made, "I didn't see them there!" Arngeir's response was to close his eyes and lightly shake his head.

"Think nothing of it, Dragonborn, petty pots can be replaced, while someone like you comes by only once in a lifetime," Arngeir dismissed, "Of course, that last exception aside, your Thu'um is precise. And you are taking to heart the method of speaking a word right after the other during the Shout; well done." He gestured his hand to her to move back to the center of the light, "Now that you have mastered the second word, you are ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force: 'Dah', which means 'Push'. Master Einarth?"

"Dah." Just like before, Einarth waved his hand before him at the ground between Siffre and himself. The word itself, in its visible energy-like state rushed from his mouth and embedded itself into the stone ground. Siffre looked on as these new set of scratches, like the ones before, began to glow before her very eyes. In her very mind's eye, she saw these scratches begin to shift and change form, becoming something more familiar to her. Or rather, was it always known to her, and she was merely being reacquainted with it? Like something she had learned from a long time ago and her mind was being refreshed on?

"Dah..." Siffre finally spoke quietly. The word itself also stopped glowing brightly and began to slowly dim itself, "Yes, just like before... with 'Ro'... I saw this word in my mind!"

"It is often said that a Dragonborn's mind and memories are akin to a locked vault," Arngeir mused, "Locked within being ancient knowledge of the ages that had always been present from the beginning. Now just as before, Master Einarth will assist in unlocking this word's potential for you using his own..."

Silently, Einarth spread his arms away from his body on both sides, and allowed the light to literally flow from his body. His very being glowed in a magnificent luminescence of reds, yellows, and blues, and all flowed directly into Siffre herself. This time, she did not fear, she did not flinch, and she did not recoil. She simply relaxed, and allowed herself to learn.

'Push'. She was a producer of great force and pressure. But not only that, it was done not simply through her arms and legs, but solely through the Voice itself. In this there would be a new dimension of strength required; at least three times what would be needed for her body would be needed for her Voice alone. Only by keeping this in mind could the true potential of 'Push' be achieved.

Einarth ceased to glow, and Siffre's enlightened eyes opened again.

"I understand now... I understand 'Dah'... a little better."

"Excellent, with all three words of power, this Shout has been made much more powerful," Arngeir said.

"B-but wait, wait a minute..." Siffre suddenly stopped to consider, "If you... if you knew the words for this Shout... Why didn't you give them to me... all at once?" She glanced back and forth between Arngeir and Einarth, despite knowing the latter's inability to reply verbally.

"Quite simply, Dragonborn, it is for the same reason that applies to all things in life- patience," Arngeir replied.

"Huh? Patience...?"

"Indeed; If one is to become a master of something, then they must learn and become acquainted with each individual steps involved in systemic order," Arngeir explained, "This principle applies to all things, from the mundane task of planting a flower, to the extraordinary task of mastering a Thu'um. Overburdening you with important steps all at once is not only taxing but counterproductive for the mind."

"Oh, I think I understand..." Siffre said with a slowly nodding head. Arngeir then turned to his side to indicate to Master Borri.

"Now for the practice of this new improved Shout, Master Borri will this time produce multiple astral projections of himself. Your task is to strike them all at once with your Thu'um being at its strongest."

"Oh? Well, that sounds easy enough..." Siffre said, a little confidence creeping into her voice. She was feeling a little bolder this time around. After all, she had been both told and could feel within herself that her Thu'um had been improved greatly, possibly to its maximum! Why wouldn't she want to experiment with it?

She glanced to her side to watch the Greybeard in question open his mouth to exhale,

**"Fiik, Lo-Sah!"** His pronunciation felt a little more potent this time. At the same time, true to Arngeir's instructions again, two rippling distortions of air in two different locations manifested transparent mirrors of Borri. They each stood before him, one on the left and one on the right. From this angle alone, Siffre held them both clearly in her sights to strike with her Shout. This might be easier than she thought!

However as she prepared to inhale herself, the apparitions suddenly turned and began walking opposite each other, a complete encircling of her. This sudden motion completely caught her off-guard, also combined with the potential of a Shout she was about to release now being cut short.

"What? Hey!" Siffre exclaimed, vibrations rippling the air in front of her, "What are they doing?"

"They are doing nothing that they never had the power to do in the first place," Arngeir said off-handedly, "Your task is unchanged, Dragonborn; Strike the two targets simultaneously with your Unrelenting Force Shout at full strength. You must incorporate what you have learned previously into this exercise..." Siffre listened in closer, waiting for the man to reveal something else useful to her. She frowned upon realizing that was all the advice he would be offering her.

'What I have learned? Alright, let's see...' she thought to herself, and began to study the targets. Both these projections were still walking and maintaining their speeds, with not a care for anything surrounding them. She did notice that one of them was walking at a quicker speed than its counterpart. This one was by now advancing the space between Arngeir and Einarth, while the slower one was just barely about to move in front of the last unnamed Greybeard.

She turned around to face him, and to where she predicted the two images would intersect. They would meet each other in the space between him and Einarth; that would be her moment. As she watched the two slowly advance closer to each other, she allowed the familiar feeling within her to build up again. Until finally...

'Each word, one after the other-' she thought.

**"Fus, RO-DAH!" **the great power practically blasted itself from out her mouth. It not only shot forward towards the projections, but it did so with the accompanying sound of a thunderclap, echoing all throughout the halls of High Hrothgar itself. Her own ears pounded and throbbed from this sudden, unexpected burst of sound. All the while she herself actually stumbled back a few steps from the sheer strength behind her own Shout! Incredible! That had just emerged from her own mouth?! Just how far had she come when a few mere days earlier she had not the ability to even speak?

She shook head from her dazed state as best she could and looked back up. Before her there were no more astral projections to be seen, but the unnamed Greybeard still stood in his place, regarding her. His eyes looking at her held a strange look themselves, and he pulled them up to look behind her. Siffre turned around too to see he was looking across, back at Arngeir.

"Well done." he simply said.

"That... did I really do that...?" Siffre asked, "My ears are ringing so much..."

"You should feel proud, Dragonborn; you have accomplished in mere minutes what it usually takes other mortals many years to achieve," Arngeir said, "And don't forget that the more frequently your Thu'um is used, the more your own body becomes physically attuned to it and its effects."

"Ah, thank you... master," Siffre said, "So, what's next? Is there... some other Shout you'll teach me?"

"No... no I believe now is the opportune time for a different sort of test..." Arngeir said, "Dragonborn, we would Speak to you."

"Hm?" Siffre raised her eyebrow, "Speak to me? But, aren't you doing that now...? Haven't you been doing that?"

"You misunderstand; we would speak to you the traditional words of greetings to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance and teachings," Arngeir clarified, "This in itself is posed as your next major lesson: you have learned how to properly project your Voice to the world... but now you must endure the Voice being projected on to you." Siffre's eyes slowly narrowed the more he explained to her. The Voice? Onto her? Does... does that mean...?

"You're... you're going to Shout at me? Why?" Siffre asked. Anxiety crept into her voice a bit, causing the small, uncontrolled vibrations to escape.

"Not exactly Shouting," Arngeir clarified, "But we will speaking purely in the Dragon Tongue to you, a language which exudes power equal to its namesake holders. As for why..." He paused for a moment as he took a small breath, "The Greybeards have always sought to guide the Dragonborn along the path of wisdom, with the Way of the Voice as their ever present guide. These same words were used to greet the young Talos many years ago, prior to being named Tiber Septim. And now, as the next Dragonborn revealed in this day and age, this responsibility falls to you."

Siffre's eyes widened at what she'd just heard. Her anxiety quickly melted into awe. Tiber Septim? From the Empire's Septim Dynasty before the modern day Mede Dynasty; he was Dragonborn? She had never bothered with in-depth study of Imperial history growing up, but now... knowing that someone as famous as him... had something in common with her.

"Tiber Septim... he was really Dragonborn...?" she asked, to which Arngeir nodded, "And he too came here... because he had the Thu'um...?" Arngeir nodded again. In her mind, Siffre suddenly recalled as she carried Lydia up the 7,000 Steps outside, passing one of the etched carvings that stood out from the rest. She didn't read what the text itself said, but what could clearly be seen was the statue of a bearded man, sword in hand, standing over the stone with his head lowered. The one and only Talos himself, a beacon for her own journey.

"I wonder... I wonder if he also couldn't talk at first, growing up..." She shook her head, all uncertainties fading away and replaced with determination, and perhaps a little excitement, "Alright... If this is what must be done... to help me find my path in life... then let's do it...!"

"Then stand between us there, perfectly spaced," Arngeir indicated. Siffre did as instructed until she was perfectly in the center of the four monks, "And prepare yourself, your body, and your mind; very few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards. Are you certain you are ready?" This time Siffre gave a nod to him. Inside however, hints of nervousness began to creep up again, which she tried her best to sweep aside. Her own body twitched as well, but she tightened her fists at her side in response. Her eyes, her face, and her mouth all hardened; she was ready, ready as she would ever be.

Arngeir himself slowly inhaled. All around Siffre, she could hear the other three taking similar breaths... All were released a the same time, along with a crashing world.

_**"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau."**_

Wait what?! This was what was happening?! Siffre's world on all angles began to spasm, an assault on nearly all her senses. The Voices that were bombarding her from four different directions relentlessly pounded on her eardrums. And the vibrations that came with them were nearly numbed her nerves on all parts of her body! She was still able to see, barely, but even then this onslaught doing its part to impair what she was able to see what was directly in front of her!

Her non-clenched fists shot straight to the sides of her head, a vain attempt to block out the worst of this power. It didn't do much good though, as the Greybeards' Voices only seemed to press against her harder than before with her hands clamped over her ears. Was this a mistake? Was she not ready to endure this power that she herself could easily do onto others...

Her mind suddenly drifted back; others. The other sort of people in this world, like those who lived in Whiterun, who do not have this Voice that she had. They were just innocent people, trying to live their lives, when suddenly dragons were showing up from seemingly nowhere to destroy them! They had this Voice, the people did not...

But she did.

She held the same Voice the dragons possessed, a great power with the potential to change, or even preserve. Now that she knew she held this power, and had for the most part learned how it was used... she could use it to help others, and keep what had happened at that place... Helgen, from happening ever again.

Siffre blinked, and her resolve slowly began to harden again in response. She slowly lowered her hands back to her side. The Greybeards' Voice and vibrations continued their attack on her, but she would endure it this time. If this was on par with what the dragons could potentially do to her, then she needed to endure it, for the sake of everyone...

_**"Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth."**_

Her breaths before she realized had been quickened, so now she focused on slowing them down more. Breathe in... breathe out... Her outer nerves were still feeling numbed, but now it was no longer on a painful scale as before. Maybe this was part of her growing attuned to a Voice leveled at her?

Come to think of it, while this was a Voice, what exactly were they saying to her? It was definitely not Cyrodillic... The only words that stuck out to her were 'Dovahkiin', 'Shor', and whatever that one word that had mentions of 'Atmora' in it... Aside from that, it just sounded like complete nonsense...

Yet Arngeir said earlier how these words were spoken with high esteem... So whatever they were, they had to mean something... So in the midst of trying to steady herself, she opened herself up to listen to these words closer...

_**"MEYZ NU YSMIR, DOVAHSEBROM! DAHMAAN DAAR ROK!"**_

That might have been a mistake on her part, as the Greybeards practically screamed even louder this time. She felt her eardrums threaten to tear, and for a moment she feared that they would actually tear and bleed! In an instant, her hands shot back up to her ears and clamped them shut. Her eyes clenched shut as well, but she fought hard to suppress the urge to cry out. Wait... what was that taste? By the Gods, had she bit something in her mouth so hard she was tasting her own blood?!

Her eyes slowly broke open, again to find Arngeir still standing before her. His mouth was closed, and no more sounds could be heard coming from him. She gingerly opened her eyes wider and cautiously lowered her hands. The assaulting sound on her ears was no more, yet all that was left in its place was a constant ringing.

Finally looking up completely at him, Siffre could see that Arngeir was now sporting a smile on his face. He smiled at her, a similar smile that Einarth had smiled to her when she'd first met him. In that moment she could tell he was proud of her, with how far she'd come.

And in the midst of her own head-ringing and numbed senses, Siffre felt proud of herself too.

"Dovahkiin," Arngeir spoke much softly this time, whether deliberately or in comparison to Speaking to her moments ago, it was hard to tell, "You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. Congratulations to you."

"Er..." Siffre said, rubbing her ears one last time, "Thank you, Master Arngeir? But... oh by the Gods! That was torturous-!" Her words trailed off as a new sound reached her ears. It wasn't Arngeir nor any of the other Greybeards Speaking any further... but a horrifying one nonetheless. It sounded like.. a cry of pain, almost like one she was close to making earlier. She glanced all around her, then darted her head all around after not finding the source right away. In the corners of her eyes, the Greybeards hardly seemed to display any similar level of urgency at all. Did they not hear that? Who was crying or in pain right now-

Her eyes and head came to a resting stop, and her world froze right then and there. Because there, at the top of the left side stairs leading to the upper far side doors, Lydia laid on her bent knees, hand pressed flat against the wall next to her. She wasn't making any loud cries at the moment, but she was whimpering very loudly, while her other hand futilely clutched at her other side ear.

"Lydia...?" Siffre said, in absolute disbelief. The reality of the situation sunk in quick, and Siffre's eyes widened in almost pure terror this time, "LYDIA!"

* * *

-I purposely chose to omit the whole learning the Whirlwind Sprint Shout at this time in the interests of maintaining my narrative (though that'll tie into an idea I have later on). I'll also be omitting the glorified 'fetch-quest' of Retrieving Jurgen Wind-Caller's Horn from cavern here", because the game actually had you first go up to High Hrothgar, then assumes you'd fast travel to Ustengrav in freaking Hjaalmarch, then fast-travel to Riverwood, then hopefully fast travel back UP to High Hrothgar! Does that sound cohesive in the slightest for any real-world scenario?

But anyway, my mini ranting aside, this was an even more fun chapter to explore things with than the last! I hope you all think so too; let me know what you think in the reviews, and I'll be back real soon!-


	8. Chapter 8

-I have to be honest here, this chapter was a freaking nightmare to write! For some reason the creative juices in my head weren't flowing as much as usual, combined with the fact that this chapter didn't feel all that special to me, at least in comparison to the previous ones. I have a feeling this might all impacting this chapter's quality in a negative way, but I'm really hoping that's not entirely the case.

Read on and let me know what you think!-

* * *

"Dragonborn? What are-?"

Siffre's mind didn't even care to register what Arngeir was about to say, and her legs were caring less about her own body as they carried her in a run. She rushed out from in between the bright center of the room the Greybeards stood around and straight for the stairs. Still, she regained enough of her self-control to carefully ascend the steps to reach Lydia. What was she doing there? How did she even get there. Had she even healed since last she'd seen her? And no matter if she had or hadn't, was a new bit of injury added to her?

She'd heard her cry out in pain and glimpsed her on her knees. Siffre's eyes narrowed as she considered: it had to have been that Speaking the Greybeards had just now done. If it was a borderline torturous experience for her, then Gods only know what Lydia herself had just experienced! Just looking at her face now, eyes clenched shut and clenched teeth exposed, she could not be in any better state than she was right now!

She finally reached the top of the stairs, dropped low to Lydia's side, and carefully took a shoulder in the grip of each hand.

"Lydia? Lydia, are you alright?!" All reservations regarding her voice abandoned, and uncontrolled vibrations poured from her mouth. Almost in direct response, Lydia's eyes slowly opened, only for her to lightly recoil from her vocal vibrations.

"Argh-! Huh...?" Lydia looked out, and Siffre's face was the first thing she saw. It was one of complete concern and worry, plus she appeared to be panting lightly, "My... thane? Is that you?"

"Yes it's me Lydia!" Siffre said, "But are you alright?" With a pained groan, Lydia rubbed her head with her free hand.

"I... I don't know..." she said, "But by the Gods above, what was that?! I could hardly think...!" Carefully, she helped her housecarl rise to her feet. Even when standing on her own feet, the dark-haired woman still held a hand out against the wall to steady herself.

"Rek los mul..." the light rumbling of the walls that accompanied that speech drew their attention. Well, in Lydia's case as well as a yelp of surprise. They both looked down at the base of the stairs they stood on to see the Greybeards, simply staring up at them from the bottom. One of the non-Cyrodiilic speaking Greybeards had spoken, but there was hardly any way to know which one had done so. Siffre's slowly narrowed as she looked down at them.

"This is... interesting..." Arngeir spoke this time.

"Huh...? Interesting?" Siffre said, "Master... Arngeir... What you did just now..." her eyes quickly glanced to Lydia out of their corners, "Did you know? Did you know she was there?"

"Know?" Lydia said, "My thane..."

"I assure you, Dragonborn, we did not," Arngeir said, "We were not aware of her presence there at the time."

"So you... you actually did that?" Lydia asked, looking straight down at the four men, "By Ysmir's Beard, that was torturous!" Down on the lower level, the four Greybeards simply exchanged slow looks between each other. In comparison to the two womens' stern faces, theirs were kept uncannily calm, almost aloof. As if what had transpired was nothing of any concern to anyone, and the confusion arose from these their reactions alone.

Siffre's gaze steadily became more hardened as she stared them down. She glimpsed her housecarl's gaze, then returned the Greybeards a matching look of her own. The way these men held their looks of apparent uncaring... It stirred something within her. A very familiar feeling which was helping to feed her currently hardening disposition. Her mouth cracked open and a sound threatened to spill forth, until another's voice beat her's to the punch.

"Leave us." Arngeir spoke simply, yet his fellow Greybeard colleagues understood his meaning. Slowly they walked away from the foot of the stairs they stood at and departed in various other directions. All of them retreated up differently located stairs at the other ends of the main chamber. Once they had disappeared from sight, and the sound of their footsteps began to grow lighter, he looked back up at the women, "Now then... If you would be willing to listen... I would be willing to explain..."

Both Siffre and Lydia's eyes narrowed at this simple statement, yet Arngeir had already turned around, motioning for them to follow him to the center of the room. They looked at each other, eventually shrugging, and carefully descended down the stairs. Or rather, Lydia was careful to descend the stairs, by keeping one hand flat against the wall and her feet cautiously stepping one after the other. Siffre herself kept a close watch on her housecarl as they walked down the steps.

"Are you sure you're alright, Lydia...?" Siffre softly asked.

"I... I should be fine," Lydia grudgingly admitted, "But while I'm thankful those Oblivion-cursed sounds aren't happening right now, who knows if they might happen again..."

"Well... at least it's just Arngeir himself now..." Siffre said, earning her a look from Lydia.

Eventually, the two ladies made it to the bottom of the stairs and onto the flat of the main chamber's flat floor. None of them had tripped nor mistook steps at any point, which was good for them. Master Arngeir awaited the two of them as he stood on the edge of the central light's edge. They walked towards the center of the room, standing side by side underneath the light. Lydia quickly spared a quick glance up at this strange light source, while Siffre stayed focused on the Greybeard himself.

"So, your name is Arngeir?" Lydia asked, to which the man nodded, "Well then... I suppose you can start with an explanation; what in all of Tamriel was that just now?!" Her voice raised at the end there, yet Arngeir held his peacefully controlled demeanor.

"The Dragonborn here had been undergoing training in the proper usage and practice of her Thu'um," he explained, his hand indicating to the lighter-haired Nord, "What you heard, and were present for, were the words of tradition that Greybeards of all speak to a Dragonborn who has accepted the guidance of wisdom into their lives." Lydia's tensed shoulders relaxed as she listened. She then turned to her thane.

"So you- my thane, you also endured that as well?" she asked.

"I did..." Siffre nodded, "But... I almost couldn't handle it either..." She rubbed her free hand across her opposite arm, "It felt like... like the entire Voice was... crushing me. It made it hard to feel, to move, to think even..."

"I'm amazed," Lydia said, "I remember seeing you stand here, in the center of these Greybeards... You had four of them project that... that 'Voice' upon you, yet you remained standing?" At her curiously worded praise, Siffre nodded.

"I too am amazed, and slightly curious," Arngeir spoke up, "I was serious when I'd said few can withstand our unbridled Voice..." His head leaned in slightly as he focused his own gaze upon Lydia, "And yet, you also... Just who are you, exactly?" Lydia raised an eyebrow at this strange question.

"What? My name is Lydia Volrun! I am the Whiterun appointed housecarl to my thane, Siffre!" she waved a hand towards her thane, "What more would there be to know?"

"Lydia... Volrun... It's strange but... that name somehow seems peculiar..." Arngeir spoke softly. Both Lydia and Siffre blinked.

"What do you mean?" Siffre asked.

"Something of familiarity? I'm not sure..." Arngeir pondered until he finally shook his head, "Well, as it is now, I feel that..." He paused for a moment to sigh, "I feel I must reiterate: it was not our intention to harm nor did we bear ill will to you, Lydia Volrun. It is no secret that we Greybeards are known to live a solitary life, in the eternal pursuit of inner balance and study. I suppose with that in mind, we are hardly proficient with... certain social graces... Our profession is purely one for study, and teaching." He looked back up at Siffre this time, "It is why I think it would be most beneficial for you, Dragonborn, if you were to join us here, for study. There is still much more you can learn from us about your Thu'um."

"You want me to... to stay here? Up on this mountain? As a Greybeard?" Siffre asked.

"Wait, is that even possible? Can a woman 'be' a Greybeard?" Lydia silently said to herself. Didn't the word 'Greybeard' imply that one had to at the very least grow a beard...?

"I... I don't..." Siffre trailed off. Lydia watched the thoughtful expressions range across her thane's face. Her own eyes narrowed in disbelief; surely she wasn't actually considering this? She hardly understood half of this philosophical stuff this one Greybeard had relayed to her, but what she did understand was that her thane was being asked to... stay here? And for how long? For as long as it would take to 'help her Voice?' How long would that take exactly? And what would this mean for herself?

"I... don't think so..." Siffre responded, Lydia's eyes widening slightly, "I don't think... that I could stay cooped up here... for however long it would take."

"The study of the Way of the Voice is always filled with-"

"I-I'm sorry, but..." Siffre interrupted, "I just don't feel like... like that philosophy suits me, personally. You're asking me to stay here... but down below, in Skyrim, there are more... important things occurring at this moment! Not the least of which: dragons...! They're, they're terrorizing this land, the people..." She looked back up at Arngeir, "Could this possibly... have something to do with me? Or even what I am?"

"Hmmm... possibly; Dragons' reemergence to Skyrim, the revealing of a Dragonborn at this time... It seems far from coincidental..." The Greybeard considered.

"Then... I feel like I would be of more use... out there," Siffre pointed in the direction of the entry doors, "Besides, you told me that... I'd have to find out my own destiny..." Siffre's gaze drifted down and away from both Arngeir and Lydia, "Well, it's not something I'd be able... to do from just staying here, would it?" Arngeir himself slowly turned his own gaze to the floor before them. His eyes appeared half closed and his lips pursed together.

Lydia herself watched this entire scene play out before her. All the while a small smile crept up over her face. Over the past several minutes she'd wanted something to happen to these Greybeards; out of spite? Maybe... But while this wasn't exactly what she'd predicted what would happen, she still felt her satisfaction rise a little. It rose more so when looking over at her thane, and knowing she had asserted herself towards what she'd wanted. If she were being honest, there was a lack of that specifically during the early times they were together, so this was a welcome, refreshing change of pace.

"I... cannot deny the logic behind your words," Arngeir conceded, "Could it be my own judgement was clouded in this instance? Doubtful, as I sense a similar passion in you that Ulfric once held... Nonetheless, if that is how you feel... let your Voice be your guide for you." Siffre gave a small smile at this. With Lydia on the other hand, at the mentioning of the Ulfric's name, she raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, for understanding," she said with a nod.

"But simply know and remember, that we will always be here to guide you, should you ever need us," Arngeir quickly added.

"Wait a minute," Lydia spoke up to draw their attention, "Did you just mention Ulfric? As in Ulfric Stormcloak?" This time, Arngeir's contented disposition faded considerably. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

"Yes, a more perfect example of man's hubris exceeding better judgement you will never find..." he spoke, his tone carrying disappointment, "He was one of us, or rather would have been a proper student had his mind and outer body been in harmony with each other..." Lydia gasped lightly.

"Wait, you mean Ulfric actually was here?" she said, "He learned the Thu'um from you as well?"

"And defied what we Greybeards stand for, in favor of pursuing a pointless-" Arngeir confirmed. His voice steadily grew more heated the more he spoke until he cut himself off abruptly. He took a moment of deliberation to calm himself, breathing in and out slowly, "I... apologize, but you'd understand if I find this an uncomfortable and unsuitable topic for conversation?" Lydia nodded, as did Siffre right after her.

'Well Ulfric is definitely alive, perhaps he could be questioned in person?' Lydia thought to herself, quickly dismissing her own thought as being nonsensical. She shook her head of such thoughts, "Well, If all this is all sorted out, are we to leave now, my thane?"

"Actually..." Arngeir said, glancing straight up above them at the light that shone through the thin fixture in the roof. This same light that had been growing steadily dimmer as the minutes passed, "It would seem evening is quickly approaching around this time. While I do not mean to go against your wishes so soon after your declaration, I must advise against traversing the Path in the night."

"Oh, yes that's true..." Siffre said, glancing up herself, "I mean, it was hard enough... climbing this path during the daytime..."

"Yeah, on that I agree..." Lydia added with a low voice of her own. She did not wish to find out what sort of nocturnal creatures might be found along those treacherous steps outside. And on top of that, a yawn that she tried and failed to contain was plenty more reason.

"You are both welcome to use the space where you had been kept for treatment," Arngeir said, indicating to Lydia, "That same space hold two beds within. You would also have my solemn vow that neither myself, nor any of my Greybeard colleagues, would disturb nor trouble you while you are there."

"Alright then, we'll rest here for the evening and... set out in the morning...? Sounds good," Siffre said. Arngeir gestured with a hand for them to follow him. The man led them around and made their way back and up the stairs.

"Right this way..." He said, leading the way. It was around when they'd rounded the familiar hallway corner to Lydia that Siffre glanced over at her, and noticed her neutral expression.

"Lydia," Siffre asked her, "Are you sure you're alright? I saw you... on the floor earlier, and..."

"I'm... feeling a little better, my thane," Lydia responded, glancing back at her, "There's still a heavy ringing in my ears, but other than that, nothing hurts much anymore." Her gaze drifted forward to the back of Arngeir leading them, "Didn't you say what you'd done back then was reserved for Dragonborns?" He glanced down to his side so that Lydia could barely see his eye. He appeared as if he was about to say something, but after a moment of pause, lifted his head back up and faced forward.

"This is true, a Dragonborn who has accepted the teachings of the Way of the Voice deserves no less than acknowledgement for this in the very dragon language they were born with..."Arngeir spoke. At this, Lydia and Siffre made off-handed glances at each other, both thinking the same thing,

'And she survived that? Incredible...'

The three of them remained silent for the rest of the way Arngeir led them. As they walked, Siffre gazed upon the inner stonework of High Hrothgar's walls. She felt how incredibly smooth it was to the touch as she casually dragged a hand across the wall. Not a single piece of dust was tracked on her fingertips at all. Either this place didn't age commonly with dust, or the Greybeards themselves were exceptional cleaners.

One more rounded corner, and the ladies were led back into the room that Lydia had first woken up in. They could see clearly that this room had two separate beds in it, both parallel and on opposite ends of the room with a nightstand and two chairs in between them. The former appeared to hold an a small plate with cheese chunks and two halves of bread on them already.

"This is it, where I remember waking up in," Lydia said. She walked over towards the very bed she had used not long ago, Siffre following right behind her. Each one took a seat on the edge of their respective bed.

"Good evening to you, Dovahkiin," Arngeir said with a small bow. Lydia's eyes narrowed a little, almost expecting him to add something else, but Arngeir had already turned and was departing from the room. She slowly brought her gaze back in front of her, and shook her head.

"You alright, Lydia?" she heard Siffre ask. Glancing up, her thane was starting to undo the straps of her gauntlets.

"Yes... no, I..." Lydia started, but suddenly found herself failing to find the right words, "I guess I... I'm not sure what it is I'm feeling..."

"Is it about the Greybeards?" Siffre prodded, "Lydia tell me- did they... 'do' anything to you? Hurt you?"

"No I..." Lydia struggled for words again, "Well, no, they didn't 'hurt' me... In fact, I woke up here in this bed, my injury healed and bandaged!" Her eyes drifted back and forth between her various injury spots, then back up at Siffre, "It's just... These Greybeards, it's like they're different from what I'd heard local legends describe them as? I don't know, am I making sense to you?" By now she slipped off her remaining unstrapped gauntlet and set both of them on her side of the nightstand.

"I think so... Siffre mused, also working on her gauntlet straps, "Still, they seemed a nice enough sort to me... They've been teaching me... how my Thu'um works and is used, among other things..." Lydia's ears and head perked slightly as she listened to her thane speak. It was vastly different from how she what she was used to hearing from her.

"My thane, um, I couldn't help but notice..." she said.

"What?"

"Well, the way you're speaking. I mean, your general speaking," Lydia tried to clarify, "What you say is sounding more and more like whole sentences... and I'm hearing your voice clearer!"

"Really?" Siffre said, eyes widening ever so slightly. She placed a hand on her upper chest, "The first thing one of them helped me with... was how loud I make my voice. But not the Thu'um Voice... my actual voice, like if I want to talk... like a normal person..."

"It uh... It sounds good. I like it." Lydia nodded with a little smile, before she set to undoing her boot straps.

"Thanks..." Siffre removed her other gauntlet as well, but held both of them in her hands for a moment first. She looked down at them, staring at the metallic engravings on the back-hand of one of them. The metal was the coarse and unpolished kind, with reflections of any kind all but impossible on them, "They did end up helping me... The Greybeards. Everything we thought they could help me with... they did. I feel like... like I've got better control, and I can actually do things..."

Lydia listened to her thane speak even as she worked off her boots. She was sounding more and more... enthusiastic about this entire event. Just how different with these Greybeards had her experience been than her own? Did they treat her like some revered hero out of legend or story? It was certainly feeling that way, especially in comparison to how she remembered her interaction with Arngeir. How he seemed to only grant her basic necessities before running off. Even up to now, when he had paid good evening to her, the 'Dovahkiin', it seemed like he'd completely forgotten she was there...

Her thoughts were suddenly brought back to when she'd regained consciousness, and her early discussion with him. He'd mentioned something about 'where everyone stands'? Something along those lines? She'd had some time to think about those words, even before she'd rejoined with her thane. It also reminded her of a line of questioning she had for her.

"My thane?" she spoke up.

"Hm?"

"I was just... wondering something," Lydia said. She stopped her movement after she'd removed her boots completely, "What um... what exactly is next to come?"

"Huh?" Siffre said with a tilted head and raised eyebrow, "'Next to come?' We go back down tomorrow morning, and I'll figure how to put my Voice to good-"

"No no, that's not what I mean," Lydia quickly interrupted, "I mean... well, with me," she indicated to herself, "What is really next for me?" Siffre stopped tilting her head, but now her eyes narrowed at the statement. For her? What brought this on?

"For you?" she said, "I... don't understand. Is something... happening to you in the future?"

"I was just wondering if..." Lydia said, "If you would even still have use for someone like me... I mean, I was at least to help you get up this mountain and to the Greybeards in the first place, which has been done. But now that't it's been done... Is there really any more use for me?" Siffre's narrowed eyes slowly widened the more she heard Lydia speak. More use for her? Just what was she implying exactly?

"Lydia..." she said, "Of... of course I'd have use for you! I- ah..." Siffre hesitated, but this time not as a speech related pause, but from different consideration, "I... like the company... 'you're' company, that you've been so far..." Lydia listened to her thane. The tiniest bit of red could be felt on her cheeks, but she attributed that to the exact temperature in this room they were in.

"My company?" she said, "I hardly think I'm good at conversations really..."

"Are you joking?" Siffre said, "Between the two of us, you've been the one who... has spoken the most out of us!"

"And now that you're sounding like you can speak better... now you will," Lydia countered. Siffre paused again; that was true. There was no denying that she gaining more proficiency at speaking. Is that what was to happen? That she'd become everything that Lydia was and more? A better speaker? A better warrior-

At the thought of warrior, Siffre was suddenly reminded of the sword held in her her own sword sheath. Slowly reached to draw it forth, its 'shing' sound filling the air as metal drew upon protective leather. Lydia watched this as well, and her own eyes widened in realization as well. Siffre glanced down at it once, then walked forward a little to hold it out to her housecarl.

"I'd almost forgotten... this does belong to you," Siffre spoke. Lydia slowly reached out to take the sword at the hilt from her thane's hands. She stared at the blade, her own reflection eyeing her almost incredulously, "You told me Jarl Balgruuf... he gave you this sword because he thought... that you deserved it? Well... I'd also say you deserve it, and, well... I'd like to have you along, more often... I'd never had someone... trustworthy, to travel with..."

Lydia lowered the blade as she looked back and straight forward. Her own face reflected in the flat of the blade was quickly replaced with that of her thane's. She no longer had a face of neutrality, but rather was more peaceful. She held a small smile on her face, and Lydia could slowly feel any lingering doubts fade away. With that, she reinserted her blade back into her own sheathe.

"That's that, then; I'll follow you for as long as you'll have me?" Siffre nodded.

"It's like Jarl Balgruuf said: I may be Dragonborn, but I'm just one woman..." she glanced in the direction of one of the clear windows that allowed the day's fading light to flow into the room, "And who knows how many more dragons there are out there..." She looked back down, then returned her gaze to Lydia, "If I'm going to have to fight more... I'd like to have someone I trust to fight with..." Memories of her own fight with the dragon at the Whiterun Tower briefly flashed in front of Lydia's mind; its gnashing maw snapping at her endlessly. Suddenly, her own memories morphed into those of herself and her thane standing side-by-side, slashing their weapons away at the reptilian terror. This new prospect on her mind, she met Siffre's gaze with a determined smile of her own, as well as a quick nod.

The two ladies then continued their own process of removing their own armors from their bodies. When she'd gotten to removing her boots, Siffre was much more relieved to find that her own feet were no longer blister-riddled. Some light chaffing around her ankles but nothing near as worrying as the first time Lydia had removed her boots for her. From the looks of her feet, these foot-wraps were doing excellent work in protecting her feet.

Finally their armors were removed and set aside on the respective chairs near the feet of their beds. Clad in nothing more than light tunics and trousers, they each sat on the edges of their beds. Inside of High Hrothgar may have been filled with cool air, yet that cool air still felt refreshing on their exposed arms. It was during this time that Siffre was reminded of the bread halves and the cheese chunk laid out on the nightstand's plate. She reached for the bread half close to her and took a small bite, then quickly followed it up with multiple bites one after the other. In contrast, Lydia reached for her own bread while watching this display with mild amusement.

"My thane! Surely you're not that hungry?" she asked, taking slower bites.

"I... I'm just so...!" Siffre said in between bites and gulps, "My stomach felt so empty!"

"Huh, well I guess climbing up a mountain side does work up an appetite..." Lydia said. She glanced over at the cheese chunk still on the plate, "I wonder how the Greybeards even get food like this? Does someone deliver it here, or would they actually leave this place to get it themselves...?"

Eventually Siffre did slow how fast she was eating her bread. The two women were then able to eat at reasonable speeds from that point on. Eventually they finished their foods, both of them could feel bits of drowsiness upon themselves. The light outside was dimming considerably through the window fixture as well. Lydia patted her own bed once to get a feel for what it was she'd be sleeping on.

"This bed feels sturdy, and the mattress firm..." she noted, "Just how did the Greybeards get such furniture up here?"

"I... I don't know..." Siffre's response was interrupted by a yawn, "I think I'll sleep now..." She slipped herself underneath the covers of her bed. Lydia slowly did the same and pulled the covers up to her neck. This was a surprisingly nice experience; this bed was nice and warm. Much better than having to sleep with her head down on some table any day or night! As she started to close her eyes and let sleep take its hold on her, she heard a familiar sound to the side.

"Hey, Lydia?" Siffre softly said.

"Hm?"

"Um... just so you know... I wouldn't mind if you... well, instead of calling me 'my thane', like you usually do... you can call me by my name..." Lydia rolled her head over to glance one eye over at her her thane, or rather as she was now preferring to be called...?

"Your name... Hmmm..." Lydia sounded out, "Well, if you insist, my th- er... Siffre..." Siffre nodded once then turned her head and body away in her bed. Lydia herself looked straight back up at the ceiling above her. Yep, that would definitely take some getting used to...

Seemed to be an ever-growing list when it came to her thane, Siffre the Dragonborn.

* * *

A gentle glow of morning light shone through the upper windows. Siffre and Lydia woke up at around the same time, though initially alarmed at waking up in unfamiliar territory. Their unease didn't last long, as memories of the day before reminded them of where they were. In beds of the fort of High Hrothgar itself.

On that note, there was not a single Greybeard to be seen before them in the room they were in. While this was somewhat of a small relief, Lydia found herself taking more relief in this knowledge. Perhaps the less she had to do with them, especially at this precise moment, the better.

The two pulled themselves from their beds, Lydia taking a moment to do some small body stretches, with Siffre watching out of curiosity.

"So then my thane- oh, I mean, Siffre..." Lydia said but quickly caught herself, "Where exactly are we going once we're off this mountain?"

"I... I'm not sure..." Siffre said, slightly embarrassed, "I actually new to this Hold myself... I have no idea where what is, here..." Finishing her stretches, Lydia looked over at Siffre as she proceeded to put her own armor back on her.

"You're not from here? That's..." Lydia started, but then shook her head. Implications weren't like that weren't important at the moment, "This is the Rift Hold, or I mean Ivarstead itself is in the Rift," Lydia explained, "And while I've also never been here myself, it might be best we set out for a Hold's main city. This one's is called Riften."

"Riften..." Siffre said, moving to put her torso armor back on, "You said you've never been there...?"

"To Riften? No..." Lydia replied, "But at the very least, we can get a broader scope of directions from there."

"Hm, that's a good idea," Siffre replied.

"It's also the best place we can go to get you a new weapon," Lydia pointed out.

"Oh yeah... I'd forgotten about that..." Siffre said, her soft tone taking on a melancholic one as well.

"Fear not, Siffre; remember, I am your sword and your shield," Lydia said, "Though in this case I suppose that's to be taken literally..." A sound emerged from Siffre's lips. Looking up, Lydia was surprised to hear the small sound of a chuckle escape from her mouth. It wasn't that amusing, yet Lydia found herself smiling at that response all the same.

Finally the last bits of their armor were placed back on. Lydia gripped her shield in her left hand while her right hand unconsciously drifted into contact with the hilt of her sword. Glancing down at her armaments was a quick mental reminder to her of what she had just said earlier. Siffre was very much without a suitable means of fighting back against threats. So until that could be rectified by re-outfitting her with a suitable weapon, she would need to be in full protective mode of her thane.

So for now, she would be taking the lead.

Lydia led the two of them back out of the room and down the hallway. The dreary interior was barely illuminated by the soft glow of morning light. That was yet another thing about this place she would not be missing; just how the sun bathes the world around them in both light, and life. How men could ever stand to live up here away from such pleasantries will probably remain a mystery to her.

Rounding the corner the two women reentered the main chamber and walked down its steps. Before them was a familiar hooded man, kneeling on the ground within the light with his back to them. There was absolutely know way of telling which Greybeard this one was from first glance. Fortunately, at the audible sound of dual footsteps against the stone floor, the man slowly turned his head. The sight of a braided beard and the man was immediately identified to Siffre and Lydia.

"Wind guide you, Dragonborn," Arngeir spoke softly. Lydia's eyes narrowed in confusion at this strange greeting, and even Siffre found herself doing the same.

"Er, good morning, Greybeard Arngeir," Lydia said, "Well, we were just one our way out of here... to the real world..." She was careful in muttering that last part under her breath, where hopefully she wasn't heard.

"B-but, before we go," Siffre quickly cut in, "I would like to say... thank you, for all the help you've given to me... Oh! I mean, for us..." Siffre suddenly remembered and motioned between herself and Lydia. From on his knees Arngeir looked up at the both of them, his eyes holding some sort of feeling in them. He then slowly rose to his feet and faced them completely, hands held in front of him.

"For you, Dragonborn... it was nothing short of a privilege," he spoke, honest reverence in his voice, "And if you feel your destiny lies outside of these walls, then I would defer to your judgement. As a matter of fact... I might have something that in a way might aid you on your journey." Even Lydia's eyes perked up at this statement. The Greybeards were planning to give them something? Something actually tangible for once?

"What is it?" Siffre asked.

"You see, during last night, we had felt the faintest whisper of a Word of Power," Arngeir spoke. At the mention of this, Siffre's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh no... please tell me-" she said, "I, I don't mean to do- especially when sleeping-"

"Please be at ease, Dragonborn; I was not referring to you," Arngeir held up a palm before her, "I refer to a Word of Power, from outside the walls of High Hrothgar."

"A Word of... Power?" Lydia said, "What is that exactly?"

"The phrase itself is self-explanatory," Arngeir quickly replied, "Carved Words of the Dragon Tongue scattered across Skyrim. If I were to venture a guess, I would assume no different from how you discovered your first Word?" Siffre's eyes widened, but rather as her mind ran back with memories. Back within Bleak Falls Barrow, that main chamber, and that strange curved hollow rock adorned with a stone dragon's head gazing down upon her. How written upon the stone, among the strange carvings of some forgotten language, that one single word seemed to jump out toward her, begging to be read, and learned.

"Yes... yes that was it..." Siffre recounted, "And you... you found... another?"

"Even from these hallowed halls, far removed from the world below, we can hear the Word's Thu'um resonate a song of harmony," Arngeir said.

"That's... impressive," Lydia had to admit. To be able to hear much of anything besides the outdoor's howling winds? And also through these undoubtedly thick walls? Those had to be some sharp ears.

"Well? Where is this Word? What is this Word?" Siffre asked, almost failing to control her volume-raising excitement.

"While I cannot quite identify what this Word is exactly," Arngeir said, "I could possibly... do you carry a map on your person?"

"A map?" the Dragonborn stopped short, "I-I don't, er-"

"I do...!" Lydia suddenly spoke up, grabbing both their attentions. That was not simply an exclamation for attention either; Lydia reached into her side back, dug through it for but a moment, and pulled forth a folded piece of parchment. She moved it and her hands between herself and the two others as she unfolded it completely. Before them lay a light-brown, rough textured map, a general outline of the province of Skyrim itself.

"Ah yes..." Arngeir studied the map intently, "From where it was felt..." He allowed his finger to hover over the map in complete random shapes, never stopping in one place for too long. Finally, confirmation was given with a tap of his finger on one location, "Here, in this general area; I believe there is where its essence was felt from."

Siffre and Lydia studied the indicated location themselves. Lydia's eyes slowly narrowing as she realized where exactly that was.

"This is in Eastmarch?" she asked, "South of Windhelm?"

"I am confident that is where you will find it," Arngeir replied, "Let this be a lesson to be learned, Dragonborn: learning the Word of Power is a great feat, but the journey towards obtaining it is no less a great feat in itself." Siffre looked up from Lydia's map and nodded to the Greybeard.

"Thank you for telling me about this," she said. Lydia used her finger nail to lightly scratch into the parchment and mark the location on her map before folding it away.

"Then may you go with the Gods on your path to wider knowledge," Arngeir slowly widened his arms and brought them back in again, "Breath, Volume, and Focus." Siffre nodded once and moved towards the door behind Arngeir. Lydia was poised to follow after her until the sound of the man's clearing throat caught her attention, "Though, before you go, might I trouble you for a brief moment of your time, Lydia?"

Lydia did stop, but more in disbelief than anything. What would this Greybeard possibly want to say to her? After all she'd garnered from this experience on this mountain fort, her opinion of the Greybeards had almost been completely reversed. Instead of appearing as revered sages who knew every answer to every problem, they instead act as if they have little time or patience for people 'not like them'. People not also bearing their Voice Powers...

Off to the side, Siffre's eyes also narrowed in confusion, which Lydia noticed.

"I'll... just be a moment, my th- er, Siffre..." she said. Siffre glanced between the two of them, then finally shrugged her shoulders and moved closer to the door. Now alone, Lydia turned back to the hooded man looking back at her.

"Lydia the Housecarl," he said, "In the time that you have been a guest in our presence, I have suspicions that your perception of us had not matched with what was preconceived?"

"Um... that's..." Lydia suddenly struggled for words. Was this man some kind of mind-reader?! "Y-yeah, you could say that..."

"While I cannot make apologies for our way of life, I feel I can directly impart to you a sort of counsel: We Greybeards may be masters of the Thu'um and the imparting of its wisdom to the Dragonborn, but..." Arngeir's gaze drifted up towards Siffre's direction, Lydia looking up as well, "I feel that... for all other manners of life one were to experience... she would need a different sort of guiding mentor..." He looked back at Lydia this time, "Someone ever present to be with her every step of the way..." Lydia simply stared at this man. How could he manage actions that made him both unlikable and also insightful at the same time?! It made no sense to her!

However, sparing a glance in Siffre's direction, and her confusion and anxiety became less prominent. For whatever this man was prophesying to her, her thane herself was a constant. She enjoyed her company more, just as she said she enjoyed hers. If he was saying that being with her would be good for her, well... that may be his opinion, but it was one that Lydia shared.

Lydia said nothing herself, but gave a simple nod to Arngeir. The Greybeard nodded in return, and the housecarl moved to rejoin her thane. Siffre perked up at the sound of Lydia's approaching footsteps.

"Lydia? What was that about...?" she asked.

"Oh... it was nothing really, my thane," Lydia replied, "These Greybeards seem like they're best at giving advice though, I will say." Siffre tilted her head in mild confusion, but brushed it off with a shoulder shrug. She placed both hands on one side of the door, Lydia's hands on the other, and gave a massive push.

With their combined effort, the two women were greeted almost immediately by the ice winds whipping at their skin. Their ears were also filled with the howling that wind also carried. As it was morning, the rising sun's early light nearly illuminated the white of the snow, thus almost blinding them. Both of the women found themselves frowning; this was one part of this journey they were not looking forward to. A quick unclipping of their rolled up wool sleeves to now cover their arms, and they felt significantly warmer.

"Wait, this is what this place looked like outside?" Lydia noted as they walked down the entry steps.

"Oh that's right," Siffre recalled, "You were technically... unconscious when I brought you here, weren't you...?" She looked forward again, the now descending 7,000 Steps laid out before them and offering a new perspective on the path once traveled, "Well, hopefully there won't be any trolls this time while going down..." With that the two made their way off of the fort's steps and onto the crunching snow. With the wind blowing as it was, Lydia and Siffre found it best to hold their shields between the wind and their heads. Lydia made a mental note that at some point they'd need to consider helmets or head-wear in the future.

In addition, as they walked and High Hrothgar grew more and more distant behind them, Lydia spoke up again.

"M- Siffre?"

"Yeah?" she looked at her.

"... Remind me never to travel up this gods-forsaken mountain again..." Siffre's mouth cracked open, then curved up into a smile.

"Agreed."

* * *

-Yeah like I said, the creativeness that usually flows through my head felt a bit lacking this time around. Of course this might also be in part because I'm more excited for what the next few chapters have in store: the opportunity to showcase new ideas I really wanted to write about.

But I guess in the end, I'll let judgement of this chapter rest in the hands of you- the readers and reviewers. Let me know what you all thought of this chapter, or even if you agree that that it might've been lacking, and I'll strive to do better in the future!-


	9. Chapter 9

-This chapter'll be a break from the usual flow of the story. Rest assured, it's all still connected, as it's part of another idea I've had brewing in my head as well. I'm confident I can make this work as well in the long run. Anyway, I apologize for the break in between updates; enjoy this next one!-

* * *

"Whoa there," Bjorlam gently pulled back on his reins. His horse slowly slowed its walk to a stop, bringing them both and the carriage to a halt. It shook its head in place to swish its mane hair all around, while giving a contented grunt. This trip had been a long one, and some rest was well deserved, for both of them.

"Hail there, Bjorlam!" a voice called out. Bjorlam turned to see the Riften Stable keeper, Hofgrir Horse-crusher, wave at him from the pillar of one of the empty horse stables, "Haven't seen you here in a while."

"Aye, been some time since I've passed by Riften..." Bjorlam politely waved back. Gathering his small number of belongings in hand, he slowly made his descent off of the carriage and onto the ground, "I'm just lucky I made it before the mist became too thick to see through."

"Yeah, it's been one of those seasons..." Hofgrir said, "Any trouble on the roads? From Imperials or Stormcloaks?" Bjorlam shrugged his shoulders once.

"A small group of passing Stormcloaks questioned me a bit on the way past Fort Greenwall, but nothing too major," he said, "I'm just looking now to relax to a nice mug of ale."

"You enjoy it, I'll make sure ole Betsie here gets treated like the princess she is," Hofgrir said, directing his attention to the horse and carriage attachments, "Now girl, let's get you unhooked..." With that, Bjorlam turned away to let the stable man work and made his way to the city gates. At first glance all seemed quiet enough. The afternoon sun was casting a barely yellow ray of midday light upon Riften's walls. While the mist was not nearly as thick now as it tended to get, what little was there reflected this light through its filter, thus illuminating the walls even further. There was no way this sort of aesthetic was intentional...

He approached the entry gates, where a nearby Riften guard looked up to notice him. He didn't say anything, yet still moved to open one of the gate's doors for him. Bjorlam slipped through, and the guard closed the door behind him.

Whatever mystifying appeal Riften's outer walls greeted any traveler from the outside was immediately gone upon stepping into the city itself. The entire place was coated in a barely visible fog, enough for one to only be able to see about twenty feet in front of them. This fog completely concealed the roofs of surrounding buildings from being seen. As such, only the light from nearby torch braziers as well as the stone pathway themselves could provide one with adequate directions. And it was very important that one knew exactly what they were to do when entering Riften...

A shudder crept down Bjorlam's spine as he walked along the path. He'd just had a long day of travel with his horse drawn carriage, as well as those two passengers from Whiterun. He had plenty of excuse to be and act tired, now if only that excuse could carry over to prevent him from unnecessary interactions with... certain people. This was Riften after all, home to the most unsavory of sorts.

Bjorlam's hand unconsciously drifted backward to brush against the coin-purse that was still secured around his belt loop. Good, it was still there; It was no secret some big gang of thieves made their home here, ready to slit the strings of any passing person's coin-purse. He himself was also definitely not a fighter, nor was he that physically active. There was no way he could fight off any potential thief that happened upon him nor chase after one that managed to lift something from him. He would just do his best to avoid contact with everyone on his way to the tavern-

"Hello, Bjorlam."

Bjorlam's teeth gritted, and he unfortunately was forced to slow his pace down to a halt. If that voice belonged to whom he thought it did, then he was already off to a bad start. Turning his head, he was greeted by the sight of a muscular Nord, clad in steel armor, a massive two-handed sword hanging off his back, standing off to the side. He simply stood there, leaning against a wooden support beam for the house behind him, arms crossed over his chest, a sneer adorning his face.

"Ah, hello, Maul..." he managed. Just his luck, running into Maul of all people...

"Funny you should swing by here," the bigger Nord said, "They do say being on time is a good trait for any customer to have."

"Eh? On time?"

"Don't play dumb with me; We both know why you've come," Maul dropped his hands and stepped away from the pillar, moving ever closer to Bjorlam, "You owe something, and I aim to collect it." The sight of this muscled, armor-clad brutish Nord about to bear down on him was enough to send a shiver down Bjorlam's spine. This was one thing he did not need at the moment. And a quick glance at his surroundings told him they were all alone in this area; no guards to be seen.

"Ah, y-yes, I have it right here..." he hastily reached to his side to retrieve the items in question: a small, folded piece of paper, and a separate coin purse with a hefty sum of thirty coins. He held them before Maul, who wasted no time in snatching them from his outstretched hands. Disregarding the note for the moment, he held the coin purse in his other hand, lifting it up and down to get a rough feel for it. After a moment, he looked back at the carriage driver, eyebrow raised.

"Seems to me like you're a bit short," he said, "There's also that bit you owe me, personally."

"W-what?!" Bjorlam's eyes widened, "But, you said that debt had already been covered the last time!"

"Did I say that...?" Maul mockingly considered, "Well as it turned out, during last time extra protection was needed, on my part no less. So you can consider that debt 'reopened'..." Bjorlam stared at him; this was ludicrous! He was almost certain there hadn't been any need to cover any more than he had! Plus he had already done his service to him by giving him that sum and the note. Why couldn't that have been enough?

One more solid look at this man told him that such reasoning would be lost on him. That sword on his back was looking mighty sharp, as if it had been sharpened just recently...

With a defeated groan, Bjorlam reached into his pocket. He pulled forth an additional ten septims from within; his own money that he'd been saving up on the road. His heart stabbed in pain as he gave away his honest-earned coins to the other Nord's awaiting palm. They fell into his hand, and Maul clamped it shut with a grin.

"Good doing business with ya," he said, "Now run along; The Bee and Barb's definitely got some ale that even the likes of you can afford...!" Bjorlam flinched in response, then quickly rushed away towards said tavern, or rather in a direction he thought the Bee and Barb was. Whichever way he went that got him away from this man was good for him!

With a small chuckle, Maul looked down at his recently acquired earnings. Not a bad haul for today; The Guild gets its required donations, and he'd still have a little on the side himself! He might even have to swing by the Bee and Barb himself for a drink at some point. Ale up here on the surface always had a different taste to it; a more... richer taste.

"Been hard at work, Maul?" The Nord heard a voice. He turned his head to where he'd heard it from, and smirked when he saw who it was. A wood elf approached him, dressed in a casual outfit. Maul smiled different smile at the sight of her; the kind he would give to a friend or acquaintance.

"Hey there, Gal," he said, "Yeah, just wracked in today's 'donations'. Here you go..." He held out the coin purse and the small note towards her. Her smaller hand took it from him, first testing its weight in her hand for a moment, then tucked it into her side bag.

"Excellent, I'll make sure the Guild gets this," she said. She then crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look, "I also heard a little between you two; 'extra protection was needed'?"

"Heh, what can I say?" Maul said with a shrug, "Even I have to make my earnings somehow. Besides, if he was dumb enough to believe that, then he and his gold deserved to be separated."

"You know you'll get your share, like all the others!" she reminded him, "Just, be careful how often you do this? Might be you'll arouse too much suspicion if you keep being careless."

"Yeah yeah, I got it..." the Nord said.

"Well anyway, I'm off to get this delivered," she indicated to the coin purse and the note, "You have fun up here!" She turned to walk down the path into Riften's central plaza.

"Let Dirge know I'm still on for drinks later on!" Maul called after her. He didn't hear if she'd heard him, but he'd just as well assumed she had. With that he crossed his arms back over his chest and leaned back up against his support beam. Time to see who'd be visiting Riften next...

* * *

The Ragged Flagon, Riften's 'other' tavern. There was no mistake in reasoning for its notoriety. Whereas the Bee and Barb up top was for the more noble souls of this world, this one was for the more... 'honest' type. Of course, honesty of this type was a more flexible than one would think. At the Ragged Flagon, one didn't need to hide any ulterior motives that were kept hidden in the back of one's mind. Everyone here knew what their neighbor was all about, and were perfectly fine with that.

And of course, so was Galadriel.

As she closed the sewer door behind her, she once again gazed upon the lower tavern before her, a body of sewer water separating her from it. From up above, afternoon light that poured down in from the city well above illuminated the entire chamber. Even without the nearby torches on the opposite side wall, the Flagon was still lit up like a beacon for 'degenerates', 'frowned-upon', and 'disreputables' of society. The perfect place for someone of her trade to fit in.

She made her way around the stone walkway that encircled the body of water. From her current angle and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Herluin Lothaire's dimly lit apothecary in one of the occupied spaces within the wall. The man in question could be seen working diligently at his alchemy station brewing something up. Knowing him, it was a toxin for some special occasion.

She neared the edge of the stone walkway itself, where the next section was in fact a massive platform of wood held over the water. From where she was she could hear the faint chatter of the Flagon's patrons, as well as who she was returning to meet up with. But of course, before she could get to them...

"Were you followed?"

Dirge would have to come first. The fair-haired Nord stood at the wooden entryway of the platform, arms crossed. The man was clad in leather armor, which still managed to showcase the taut muscles in the skin of his arms. He looked down upon the smaller wood elf, that same stern gaze never changing nor lifting. She was thoroughly convinced that the man was born was that same face, and would enter the grave himself with that same face adorned. At first this look did its job to cast intimidation, but after a while and she got more used to it, the more tiring it seemed.

"Dirge..." Galadriel said with an exasperated sigh, "Look behind me; that door back there is the only way in and out to get to the Ragged Flagon! Does it look like I was followed?!"

"Can't be too careful you know," the Nord bouncer with an aloof tone in his voice, "Trouble could come from anywhere, from anyone, which I ain't about to let happen. Don't expect mercy from me if you cause trouble, doesn't matter if you're one of us."

"Yeah yeah, we've been through this practically every time we've spoken..." Galadriel replied. The harshness in his tone did not cut deep with her anymore, yet his meaning still held strong, "And no, I was not followed, so that's something you can drink to. Oh and speaking which, Maul up top told me to tell you he's still on for drinks later." Dirge's face maintained its stern image, yet the corners of his lips pulled back ever so slightly. In Galadriel's eyes, that might've been the closest thing she would get as a smile out of him.

"Heh, another round of me drinking him under the table you mean?" he said, "If baby brother still thinks he can beat me, he's welcome to try..." Galadriel shook her head slightly, even as she walked past the bouncer. Along this wooden platform, the voices of the patrons could be heard much clearer now.

"It's all true! You can ask any one of them you see! 'Vekel the Man, I'll never find another man as great as him'!"

"Uh-huh, sure..." Sitting at the bar an Imperial woman held her look of non-caring, even as she sipped from her tankard, "And when you say anyone we see, do you really mean anyone only 'you' can see?"

"Oy, speakin' of seein' women, look who's 'ere," said another man sitting from a nearby table. The two at the bar turned their heads to see the wood elf make her way up to the bar. She leaned an arm up against the bar-top, a tap of her palm against the wood signalling a tankard as well.

"Oh hey Galadriel, you made it back," the woman said, "And I assume with good news?" Vekel finished pouring a healthy tankard of Honningbrew mead and slid it over to Galadriel's awaiting open hand.

"Yes I have, Vex," Galadriel replied, then made a quick glance over her shoulder at the Breton sitting at the table behind her, "And same you too, Delvin."

"Do you now?" the man said, "Well then, let's see what you got..." She reached into one of her pockets to fish forth two items: a pure, flawless sapphire stone, and a golden band adorned with an equally flawless emerald gemstone. Both of these precious minerals sparkled light from the tavern's nearby braziers. This in turn caused the surrounding three peoples' eyes to sparkle at the sight, which caused Galadriel to smile.

"I hear someone 'lost' their precious ring," she subtly glanced in Delvin's direction, then back over to Vex, "and someone 'misplaced' their 'heirloom'." She tossed the ring over to the man, and passed the blue stone over to Vex. Both of them looked over their respective items, and in turn sporting satisfied smiles. From the other side of the bar, Vekel watched this scene unfold, and his eyes narrowed in contrast.

"People really oughtta 'old on to their valuables better," Delvin played along with the meaning, "Seems stuff like this gets lost all the time."

"Yeah, this looks like the right one," Vex stopped squinting at the sapphire to look back at Galadriel, "Good job, the client will be pleased. I guess you'll be wanting your payment for this."

"That would be nice," Galadriel said, extending a hand out. Vex handed her a small coin purse loaded with precious coin. The Wood Elf turned around and also accepted a second one handed to her by Delvin. Two jobs done equaling two times the pay; not bad for the aspiring expert thief.

"She got 'em? She got the stuff?" a nearby Redguard's voice called out from the other side of the wooden platform.

"That she did, Tonillia," Delvin replied, "Both of 'em in one go!"

"Ha! You lose, Vekel!" Tonillia said, "In fact, looks like you lose double for her bringing both of them in!"

"Drgh, blast it...!" the barkeep grumbled as he fished his own hand into his pocket in search of something.

"Wait a minute, there was a coin bet going on?" Galadriel looked back and forth between the four other people in the tavern.

"It's a... nothing really, I mean..." Vekel stammered, finally retrieved a thick coin purse of his own and placed it on the bar-top. With a smirk, Vex took the bag along with the sapphire and brought them over to the other woman.

"What he means to say is he lost that bet, fair and square," Tonillia said, "He'd bet that you couldn't pull off either of Vex's nor Delvin's jobs successfully, whereas I said you could!"

"Really? Huh, would you look at that," Galadriel said, looking at Vex, "Wasn't it you that said no one was getting past you? Looks like I'm getting 'big enough' that people are placing bets on me!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Vex said, "I was just lucky to stay out of gambling any of my coin... Anyway, how went stuff up top?"

"Nothing of any major concern up there, everyone is paying their dues..." Galadriel said, taking another swig from her tankard, "And I just picked up the 'contributions' from Maul, including the 'inventory list' from the local carriage driver. Guess I should go deliver that in."

"Ah, perfect timing on that," Vex said, "Brynjolf came back in about five minutes before you did, so you can give it to him yourself." Galadriel her mouth curl up into a smirk at the mentioning of that name. With one last swig of her tankard, she tucked away her recent earnings into her pockets. She then shuffled around the tables and towards a small hallway on the same wall as the tavern itself, Delvin watching after her.

"You just had to go say it like that, didn't you?" Delvin turned back to Vex. The blonde Imperial shrugged her shoulders, as she took a seat back up at the bar stool.

"She's got another bit of job to get completed, Delvin, in case you've forgotten," Vex said. Still, for a brief moment, the corner of her own mouth twitched upward as well before relaxing, "And besides... I'd say she's earned every bit of good stuff comin' her way. For all she's done for this Guild?"

"Ah yeah, really brought us out of the figurative gutta', didn't she?" Delvin said, going back to taking bites out the meat on his plate.

"She has helped us out a great deal..." Tonillia added, "With all these clients agreeing to meet back with us for business, it won't be long before our reach isn't just restricted to down here in the Ratway. And speaking which, Vex, Delvin? I've got some more clients with jobs lined up for us, so listen up!"

* * *

There was a time, a while back, when the Ratway was nothing more than that of its own namesake. A sewer chamber, where water, wastes, and whatever discarded things from the world above drifted down into. A place where no one in any right mind would ever want to find themselves at any point, whether they were of 'good' morale standing, or... perhaps those of 'alternative' lifestyles. Light shone down from above the enlarged chamber, a sole window connecting this world to that of the outside. This light was all there was at one point to showcase the sad, decrepit state the world below really was.

Now though, things were different for the Thieves Guild.

In every sense, things were definitely turning around for those who made their home down here. What was important now was that fortune seemed to be smiling back upon this now hardy organization. The name of the Thieves' Guild was now stretching out across Riften and even to outlying settlements within the Rift. As a result, crafty, cunning, and stealthy individuals were now practically begging to join up within its ranks to plunder Skyrim's very pockets.

As Galadriel walked within the Thieves' Guild's main chamber, she looked all around at these new recruits. They could be seen at various points around the stone archways that acted as bridges over the central water area doing various things. There were sets of training dummies and long range targets that were being made use of by an archer, and several beds outlining the wall's perimeter. It was almost hard to believe that once upon a time, back when she'd first came here, none of this was here at all. There wasn't even any decent furniture down here; this place was an actual sewer, a dead-end stop for the unfortunate. And of course, the Ratway and the Thieves Guild were both reflections of each other, as the organization had fallen on hard times. Galadriel could feel a frown growing over her face as she recalled these hard times, and especially what she had been through to overcome them.

But overcome them she did. She was now a better sneak, a better thief, held more confidence within her, and more importantly, she now had a purpose to live for. An additional reason to want to do what she did. It was all tied to the very shadows that she took comfort in when she plied her trade. Someone would be there for her, from beyond, but also in the physical world as well: her two partners Karliah and Brynjolf.

Speaking of the latter, she crossed over the stone archway connecting to the other side of the walkway. On the other side was a small desk with various items of immense value decorating it, and a man standing behind it. Like her, he was also dressed as a casual city-goer; an every day salesman. He was currently looking down and reading from a parchment on the desk before him. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up from his work, a smile gracing his mouth as he realized who it was.

"Ah lass, you've returned," he said, "So, how did you get on?"

"Here I am, but..." Galadriel looked all around at the Ratway's current inhabitants, "Karliah isn't here?"

"Not at the moment, she's still outside of town running that other job," Brynjolf explained, "But you on the other hand, I trust you've returned with something good?"

"Oh yes, something very good," Galadriel said with a smile. She held out a hefty bag of gold coins and set it on the desk in front of him. Brynjolf smirked at first, then looked back up at the Wood Elf.

"Oh, that is good news; well done indeed," he said, taking the jingling bag and setting it underneath the desk, "You run into any trouble getting this?"

"Eh, nothing I wasn't able to handle," Galadriel shrugged, "That Vulwulf acts tough until you know the right buttons to push with him."

"Aye, a right pain the ass he is," Brynjolf agreed, "You know he's one of the few in this city that claims my Falmerblood Elixir isn't genuine! Oh, can you imagine the audacity?" The man added a mocking tone regarding the man in question.

"Sounds like the 'best salesman' in Riften's market just needs to pitch the product better," Galadriel teased with a smile, "Oh, and also... there's this." She handed the folded note to Brynjolf as well.

"Ah, even better, practically a whole shopping list of potential items to lift, straight from the eyes of the lowly, unsuspecting carriage driver," he started to unfold the parchment, then stopped as he glanced back up at the Wood Elf, "You know what...? How about you be the first to hear of these potential takes, before I pass this to Tonillia?" Galadriel's eyes narrowed at this strange, out of nowhere suggestion.

"Me? Really?" she said, "Isn't the honor of first viewing reserved for the leader?"

"Come now lass, we both know I'm far from being cut out to be leader of anything," Brynjolf said while shaking his head, "I'm just playing the role of 'acting leader' until someone more worthy fills this void..." Brynjolf looked back into her eyes, "You know, the offer you were given is still there, if you're interested. Even some of these green recruits around here wouldn't dispute you being chosen for the job at all."

"And I already told you I still need time to think it out," Galadriel said, "I mean, being the new leader of the Thieves Guild, and so soon after... well..." She was lucky that all she did was trail off, as that line of thought was bound to bring up some very unpleasant conversation topics. Not to mention a very unpleasant someone. The Nord thief waved and dismissed the notion with one hand.

"Alright, I understand," he said, "But anyway, I'd still say you've earned a right to a preview to rich pickings before others..." His hand pointed down towards the note still before her.

"Well, alright, why not?" Galadriel took the note in her hands, unfolded it completely, and beheld the words written upon it.

"Let's see... 'A pair of silver rings, held by a blue-garbed Imperial woman, during the trip from Dragon Bridge to Markarth'... 'A coin purse of at least sixty coins', by the loose-lipped man's count anyway, 'and a gold locket with ivory finish, held by a Breton man on the trip from Markarth to Whiterun'..."

"Ivory finish?" Brynjolf said, "That's pretty rare, as ivory mostly comes harvested from mammoth tusks. Gods know how hard those are to come by... It sounds like that last one might be a right heirloom!"

"Plus that coin purse with all those septims?" Galadriel added, "Now I'm really loving that you had me read this first before anyone else!" The two shared a smile and a light laugh between each other before the Wood Elf continued to read. Slowly however, the smile on her face diminished into a small frown, which Brynjolf quickly took notice.

"Lass? What's wrong?" he said. She said nothing, but slowly tilted the note at an angle to allow him to see it slightly. While her one hand held one side of it, he reached up with his hand to pinch its other side.

"'Sword owned by Balgruuf the Greater, held by his housecarl, Lydia, while also travelling with another Nord woman, on the way to... Ivarstead?" He read. Galadriel's fingers released the note, allowing Brynjolf to take the note completely and scan it more thoroughly, "Huh, Ivarstead... that's an unusual stop for..." He trailed off as he looked back up at the girl's face. Her mouth was still in a frown, and her eyes appeared to have darkened a little, "Hey um... are you alright lass?" Galadriel looked back up at him, then gave a sigh.

"I'll... I'll be fine," she said, "You already know how I feel regarding the Jarl of Whiterun. I try not to let it affect me too much, and then comes moments like this when I feel like... like..." Brynjolf reached over the desk and placed a comforting hand on the Wood Elf's shoulder. The smile he held on his face was one of equal comfort. Galadriel found her face flushing uncontrollably at this contact. Of all the times she could've been wearing her thief's hood, why couldn't it have been now?!

"Having moments like those don't make you weaker... they make you stronger in the long run- they give you resolve," he said, "But just be sure that you control it, rather than let it control you. You- no, 'we've' seen what happens to those who do let it control them..." Memories that she had tried to banish from her mind earlier came flooding back in. Galadriel gently closed her eyes and shook her head. At the same time one of her gloveless hands reached up to rest on top of Brynjolf's at her shoulder. Hard, coarse leather greeted her skin, yet she somehow felt his natural hand all the same.

Luck was truly restored for her to know this man!

"Thanks," she said, giving the hand a pat, "I think... I'll be fine... I'll just... Yeah, I will..." Brynjolf pulled his hand back and took the note back.

"How about you get some rest then?" Brynjolf suggested, "You must be tired after running Vex and Delvin's jobs, and I hear Niruin's making that special soup of his that you like." Just like that, Galadriel's eyes nearly lit up. Her mouth curled back up into a smile.

"Oh Brynjolf, how ever do you know my weaknesses...?"

"We're thieves, lass; it's in our nature know," the man gave a smirk of his own, "I'll get this stuff finished with on this end, then hand this off to Toniliia." Galadriel gave a nod and prepared to turn around, "Oh and lass?"

"Yeah?"

"Well... perhaps at some point, off work and all that..." Brynjolf rubbed the back of his head, "We could find... 'other' ways to spend our 'hard-earned' coin... you know, the two of us?" Galadriel's own smirk became a clear smile.

"I thought you'd never ask; I'd like that," she said with a wink. She turned around and made her way back over the stone arch walk-way above the central water. 'Other ways to spend coin'? For all that man's charm at selling phony potions, he still lacked a certain 'finesse' at speaking with women. But maybe that was just one of the reasons Galadriel took such a liking to him. That quality of his helped make him endearing!

Looking off to her left side, she could see the larder where all the food was located. Even from this distance, a cooking pot was hanging off of a spit over a small cooking fire. No doubt that was where that delicious Valenwood soup would be found. She felt her mouth watering just from the memory of when she'd tasted it last. She turned in that direction and passed by her fellow Guild-mates, who casually waved to her.

"Welcome back, Galadriel!" the Bosmer Niruin called out to her in the middle of shooting his bow at target dummies. He pointed over to the kitchen area, "Just whipped up my Falinesti Soup a few minutes ago!"

"I know! I can't wait to get some!" She retrieved an empty bowl from the table and scooped out generous helpings of the soup that was still in the larger, black pot. Her nose was already being bombarded by the savory aromas! Once she was done she grabbed a spoon from the table as well and moved around on the surrounding stone walk-way.

A row of beds also lined the outer walls of this sewer chamber, with hers being at the very end and right next to the exit space. She plopped herself down on her bed and wasted no time in eating her soup.

"Hmmm...!" she said. It was still as great as the last time she'd had it! There were few times while in Skyrim of all places that someone like her could sample foods from her own country. That's why it was lucky a fellow Bosmer like Niruin was around to provide what she'd mostly been missing out on! Regular Skyrim soup recipes hardly held candles to good Valenwood cuisine. A taste of home...

Valenwood. That was something that crossed her mind on more than one occasion, the place where she was born, along with most Wood Elves everywhere. In fact, her earliest memories she could recount, she could see in her mind the tall trees of thick forests, hear the chirping of the native birds, even smell that distinct aroma of mist in the air. Those were not feelings someone like her could so easily forget.

Galadriel broke from her spoon-fed sips to sigh. Not all the memories of her home country were happy ones. There were those that were sad, almost painfully so. Her parents...

She glanced over to her bed's nightstand, its top drawer. Galadriel reached a hand over and slid it open by a crack. Was it still there...? Yes, it was. A simple folded note. One hand set her soup on top of the nightstand while the other pulled the note out. On the surface, nothing was special about this piece of parchment. No deformities, no embroideries added to it, nothing. And yet, the words that were contained within this note were worth far more than anything in this world. Galadriel could steal one of those fabled Elder Scrolls themselves and they would hardly compare to the value of this single note!

She unfolded it and beheld the words written upon it, silently reading to herself. The more she read, the more misty her eyes got. Finally she finished and folded the note up again, strictly following the previous folds the note already had. Skyrim was as harsh a land as one could be, and Galadriel was far from native to it. In fact, the chances of how she'd managed to end up here of all places in Tamriel might remain forever insane. Thus in this whirlwind of insanity, this single note was her most trusty anchor; a reminder of a home from another lifetime. One that brought her equal parts peace as it brought sorrow.

With another hefty sigh she wiped her eyes before tears could form in earnest. Then she placed her precious note back inside the nightstand drawer and took her soup back in hand. That was enough heavy emotions for one day; time to eat!

* * *

-Yes, I am in fact incorporating the Thieves Guild into my story! To those of you wondering if I'll do the same for the other Guilds? It ranges from probably to definitely not. Tbh out of all of them, this one I felt had a lot more going for it and a lot that came out of it in the end than the others did. Not to mention I am one of those few who is not a massive fan of Aela and the Companions, nor am I into the cultist nature of the Dark Brotherhood. There was just a lot more I could work with Thieves Guild, especially in conjunction with the main Dragonborn story. Speaking of which, next chapter will definitely be returning 'back to the regularly scheduled story'. Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next time!-


	10. Chapter 10

-Here I am again, excited for the next few chapters! They really get the chance to delve into some ideas I've had rattling around in my head for a while now. I feel confident I can pull them off! Anyway, enjoy!-

* * *

"Aaargh! Finally!" Lydia didn't even bother to disguise nor hide her voice as a mix between a groan and a shout. To her side, Siffre couldn't blame her at all. In fact, she herself was equally tired, but was trying to stay quiet during her own ordeal. Climbing 7,000 icy steps up a mountainside was one thing, but going down was a whole different matter entirely. But one that was no less exhausting. Her own calves were burning within, a cruel way to stave off the ever-present cold the mountain provided. Of course to some degree, that cold became noticeably warmer and the icy winds died down more and more.

Eventually, Siffre and Lydia found themselves walking back down the last flight of stairs. There was now no mistaking they had touched back down on solid ground. Before them lay the familiar stone bridge over the river, and of course, Ivarstead. The place hardly changed at all since the two women had seen it yesterday, with its handful of crop workers and patrolling guardsmen that could also be seen outside.

"Remind me to 'never', go back up that-"

"I know, Lydia; you said this, remember?" Siffre cut in.

"Um, oh!" Lydia half laughed, half scoffed at her own mistake in memory, "That's right, I did say that!" She looked over to the settlement across the stone-bridge, "Well anyway, is it alright if we rest for a bit first at a tavern? My legs are burning."

"Yeah, mine too..." Siffre rubbed one of her legs as well, "Let's see if there is one in this place." With that the two women made their way across the bridge. Mid-way across however, Siffre's hand brushed down to her side to feel nothing. She looked down to the side of her waist, and with a frown was reminded yet again that she was without a weapon. She looked back up towards the settlement, "Maybe I can get a new weapon too..."

"Don't worry, Siffre," Lydia said, "We'll get you a new one in no time." This was a sympathetic circumstance; Lydia herself was briefly without her treasured sword during and after the fight with the dragon. Sentimentality aside, it was not a good feeling to feel so... defenseless, regardless if she still had her shield with her. She could only imagine what Siffre must be experiencing as well.

The two reached the other side of the stone bridge, and a Rift guardsman immediately came into view.

"Oh! Here we go," Lydia pointed out, "Excuse me, guardsman?" The armored man stopped his patrol and turned in their direction.

"Hm, yes? Need something?"

"We were wondering, does Ivarstead here have a tavern, or some place to rest at?" Lydia asked.

"And also... is there a place here where... you can get weapons?" Siffre added.

"Unfortunately no, to the weapons anyway," the man shrugged his shoulders, "Ivarstead's a small hamlet, and we're without any blacksmith or vendors. But," he pointed his finger off to the side, down the dirt road, "Vilemyr Inn is where travelers stop to get food and drink. For all else, your best bet would be in Riften itself; try their market section."

"Ah, I see..." a disappointed Siffre said, "Well, thank you anyway."

"Safe travels." The guardsman walked away and back to his patrol. Siffre and Lydia then moved back up the trail where the guard had pointed them to. The building in question was of a decently large size, across from the lumber mill. They made their way up the building, up its stairs, and through the door to inside.

Warmer air greeted them upon entry, air with slight hints of savory aromas. Upon smelling, both Siffre and Lydia smiled slightly in response. Having gone so long both from no food to the little that was available at High Hrothgar, they were eager to have something fill their bellies again. Walking in they could see this inn was more spacious, as well as the small number of patrons that were already inside. A hunter dressed in light fur armor, a nearby bard, and the barkeep conversing with her.

"I know Father, and I'm sorry," the woman could be heard saying, "I won't go there again, I promise."

"Good, see to it that you don't," the barkeep said. It was then that he looked up and noticed the two women entering the inn, "Ah, welcome! You travelers? Take a seat by the fire there." Lydia politely nodded and made her way to the center of the room with Siffre. The central fireplace held three chairs surrounding it, with the male hunter occupying one of them. The two ladies took the two empty ones next to each other, deep sighs escaping their lips.

"Say, aren't you two those travelers I'd met on the path yesterday?" the man spoke up after studying them. Lydia looked up; sure enough, she recognized him as the same hunter whom she and Siffre had encountered, and gave them the salted meats. He had been sitting in his chair sharpening an iron dagger against a hand-held grinding stone.

"Oh, it's you," Siffre said, "Y-yes, it is us. Um, my name is Siffre, and this is Lydia."

"Barknar, well met," the man introduced himself.

"Oh, Lydia and Siffre, is it?" the barkeep called out, "What can I get for you ladies?" Dragonborn and Housecarl looked at each other, varying expressions.

"I don't know about you, but I could do with something that's not bread or cheese for once," Lydia said.

"Me too, I think..." Siffre agreed with a nod, then looked over at the man, "Any sort of meat you have? And... just some water for me." The man may have been a few feet across the room from her, but Siffre still found she had to lower her voice in spite of that. The tiniest of vibrating ripples could be felt however. If the barkeep or anyone else had noticed it, they didn't say anything.

"I'll have the same as her," Lydia said.

"Comin' right up," the man replied, and turned to whip something up from behind his counter.

"Excuse me miss? Are there any songs can you play?" someone's voice could be heard speaking. Another patron sitting at the side wall table had turned her head and was speaking to the local bard. The woman strummed a few strings on her instrument, tuning them.

"I know more than a few! Let's see..." the woman responded.

"Ah, something about this feels... good, I guess," Lydia said, relaxing in her chair. Siffre looked over at her.

"Hm? How do you mean?" she asked.

"'This'", Lydia indicated with her hands to their setting, "Taking a deserved load off at an inn after that little adventure, about to get some real food?"

"But, what about when we were up there?" Siffre pointed in a diagonal direction where she thought the Throat of the World stood, "We had some food and got to relax."

"My th- er, Siffre, all we were given was bread, cheese, and maybe a tankard of mead," Lydia clarified, "And also, the inside of that place felt drab and dreary. Some place like here, on more solid ground? This just feels more... right, somehow."

"So then," Barknar spoke up, "How went you two's trip to see the Greybeards themselves?" Siffre and Lydia shared a look with each other, as well as a shrugging of their shoulders, before looking back at him.

"It went well... about what one would expect," Lydia said.

"You know, I was hunting outside of Ivarstead when I heard that great Voice thunder off of the mountain," Barknar said, "The echoes on the wind... I wonder what that was all about...?" It was about now when the barkeep had approached them with two separate plates of food, and two tankards. He held them out to Siffre and Lydia, and the two women took them eagerly.

"Your food and water," he said, "That should be... fifteen gold."

"Oh yes..." Lydia quickly reached around into her coin purse, pulled forth the desired amount of coins, and gave them to the man.

"Thank you, enjoy," the man returned behind the bar.

"Ah well, I suppose it's above someone like me to understand people like the Greybeards..." Barknar said, then stood up from his seat, "Time to get going. Where ever your journey takes you next, safe travels!"

"Goodbye," Siffre said as the man made his way out of the inn. She looked back down at the food before her: cooked fish with a half of a potato, and a full tankard of water. Simply looking at this food was in fact an improvement over what she'd had yesterday at High Hrothgar. On that she could definitely agree with Lydia. The fillet was just solid enough that she was able to pick it up in her fingers and not have it fall apart. She took a bite from it, where her tongue was immediately bombarded by flavor. Delicious!

"Oh, this is... it's good!" she said aloud to Lydia before taking more bites from it. The housecarl found herself smiling at this. It was almost strange in a way, but there was something she really liked about seeing her thane eat food. She looked so... happy, at peace. Was it simply satisfying one's hunger? If it was, well that was something she herself could relate to...

"_We drink to our youth, and to days come and gone, for the Age of Oppression is now nearly done_." The gentle strumming of a lute in the corner could be heard, but that wasn't what got Lydia's attention per se. Her ears perked up as she listened to the woman sing this familiar song. She'd heard this song before, but... Those weren't the right words, were they?

"_We'll drive out the Empire from this land that we own, with our blood and our steel, we will take back our home_." Her food temporarily forgotten, a frown began to sport on Lydia's lips. 'Drive out the Empire'? When was that ever a part of this song? This was supposed to be a rallying song 'against' the Stormcloaks, not for them!

"Lydia? Are you... alright?" Siffre stopped her eating for a moment when she noticed her friend's face. The housecarl broke her stare from the bard with a shaking of her head, then looked back at Siffre.

"Yeah I'm fine, it's just..." she said, "I've never heard this song done this way before..."

"This song?" Siffre looked over her shoulder in the direction of the bard.

"_All hail to Ulfric! You are the High King! In your great honor, we drink and we sing_." the woman sang.

"Ulfric... Ulfric..." Siffre mulled the name silently as she returned her head forward, "That name again..." Lydia looked over at the Dragonborn, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes Ulfric, the one said to have murdered the High King of Skyrim..." Lydia explained. She trailed off however as Siffre looked up at her. Her face held confusion upon it rather than understanding. This in turned caused Lydia to tilt her head in confusion of her own. She understood this, didn't she?

"You... know of Ulfric Stormcloak, right?" she questioned.

"I um... not really," Siffre said. Her eyes glanced up at Lydia's, looks exchanging, and she sighed, "I... I'm actually not... 'from' Skyrim. I didn't grow up here, so I don't know of such stuff that's going on."

"No?" Lydia said, "Well... where are you from?"

"Cyrodiil," Siffre answered, "But you see... I'd only arrived in Skyrim recently, through..." She hesitated, but nearly stopped her train of thought, all from a painful memory that had re-entered her mind, "... Helgen." Lydia this time sharply drew in breath. News of the massacre at Helgen, by a dragon, had reached her and Jarl Balgruuf all the way in Whiterun. Yet another reminder to her that her very thane was indeed a survivor of that catastrophe. It could not have been easy for her, even when such time has passed.

She reached over and placed her hand on her shoulder, patting it. The gesture served its purpose, and Siffre drew in a calm breath this time.

"So yes... I'm not native to Skyrim... As I lived... near Bruma."

"I see... Bruma, that's just south of the Jerall mountains, isn't it?" Lydia said, to which Siffre nodded. Bard was still singing her song in the background, but by now was going unnoticed by the two women. They didn't pay attention to what she was singing, but the sounds of her lute still carried its gentle melody to their ears. Lydia took a quick sip from her tankard of water, "Well then, I've been hearing people say that Ulfric in fact used the Voice to murder High King Torygg!" Siffre's eyes narrowed at this.

"The Voice?" she said, "That's right... Arngeir did mention this; how this Ulfric... studied with them? How he can use the Voice? But... he can't be another Dragonborn, can he?"

"Gods I hope not," Lydia said, taking a longer sip from her tankard. The two sat in relative silence for a minute, silently eating the food before them. This was hefty information to consider, in addition to when they were first informed of it at High Hrothgar. Ulfric Stormcloak was in a high position of power as Jarl of Windhelm, but at the moment was his current reach. One definitely couldn't put past the fact that his further rise to power could be assisted with the Thu'um itself.

"Maybe..." Siffre spoke up, "Maybe I should.. speak to him." Lydia spun her head at her in surprise.

"What?"

"I mean, he knows the Thu'um, right?" Siffre explained, "Maybe... he'd know something I don't about it..."

"I..." Lydia hesitated. It wasn't that bad of a suggestion, especially in regards to the Thu'um, however, "Well... my thane, there is a delicate political situation here." Siffre's eyes narrowed in question, "You see, Ulfric is currently making a bid to become High King of Skyrim by ousting the Imperial legion already here. That's what this whole civil war's been about: his Stormcloaks against the Imperials. The thing is, Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun has never actually... er, 'supported' Ulfric's claim to the throne himself... at least, not yet I don't think."

"What does that have to do with me and the Thu'um?" Siffre softly questioned.

"Don't you see? If we were to appear before him, there's that chance Jarl Ulfric would recognize someone like me, who served... serves, Jarl Balgruuf as housecarl..." Lydia trailed off, hoping she didn't need to explain further. In fact, with her hand she lightly gestured to her sword, and Whiterun's symbol etched on the scabbard.

"He'd know you as... a servant of Balgruuf, right away?" Siffre asked, "So then... Are Jarls Balgruuf and Ulfric enemies...?"

"No- er, well I mean... they're not exactly 'friends' or..." the housecarl groaned. This was a subject that wasn't easy to both explain, nor really understand herself clearly, "It's... it's really complicated; politics and all that..."

"Oh..." Siffre looked down and away from Lydia. Her gaze fell back to her plate, and she was reminded that she still had some unfinished food still laying upon it, "I'm sorry... I hadn't realized... th-that this was all so..."

"Don't worry about it, Siffre," Lydia shook her own head, "It was like you said: you clearly weren't native to here, so you couldn't have known." The Dragonborn looked back up at her and nodded once. She appeared to discover her hunger again, as she picked her unfinished fish fillet back in her fingers and munched on it again. Following her example, she took her tankard and quickly downed its remaining contents down her throat. Her refreshed throat refreshed her head as well, as an idea came to mind,

"Besides, you still have that 'Power Word', or something, that the Greybeards directed you to, remember?" Siffre quickly swallowed the last of the fish in her mouth, her eyes widening at the same time at the realization.

"Oh, that's right!" she said, "The Word of Power. Arngeir said I'd find it at... um, where did he say it could be found at?"

"Well let's see..." Lydia placed her tankard down and fished her hand into her side pouch. Her map was a simple, carefully folded piece of parchment, which Siffre could now see in clearer detail. Each unfold revealed parts of the map where its edges were slightly singed, and different parts of it were bleached different shades. Finally, the parchment was completely unfolded, the province of Skyrim literally laid out before them, "Alright, he said it was... here." Her tracing finger came to rest on the marked spot. The two inspected the spot closer to see where exactly it was. There was no denying it; the location was directly south of Windhelm, in a bare section of land.

"So... where is this exactly?" Siffre asked.

"This right here? That's Windhelm," Lydia explained as she pointed to the major city above it, "And this entire hold itself is called Eastmarch."

"So then..." Siffre looked closer at the map, "It looks like... we'd need to go... off to the left here, if we were going to... Windhelm..." she traced her finger along the barely visible road-lines that connected the cities.

"Yes, but... I'd recommend us going to Riften first," Lydia pointed out herself, "It's closer to where we are now, and more likely to have supplies for the journey ahead. Maybe even a store or smith to get a new weapon from?" Siffre's eyes flashed briefly as she was reminded of this.

"Oh yeah, that's right... I guess I do need a new weapon first, don't I?" With a smile, Lydia took the map and began to refold it by its creases.

"I may be your sword and your shield, but you yourself are the Dragonborn," she said, "Little reason we both shouldn't be able to fight for each other." Siffre returned Lydia's smile with one of her own and a nod. The two then returned to finishing their almost neglected, half-completed meal before them. Thankfully the fish and potatoes on both their plates held a little warmth in them still. They ate in relative silence, making idle small talk here and there. For every word she heard her speak, Lydia could hear less and less obvious vibrations exit Siffre's mouth in addition. Was she making a concentrated effort on this, or was it just coming naturally?

Eventually, the two rested women finally got up from their chairs. They returned their plates and tankards to the barkeep, and made their way to leave the inn. There was still a considerable way's walk between Ivarstead and Riften, and there was healthy light above them in the form of a midday sun. They reoriented themselves in regards of where to go, and finally set off. Off to their right side, a separate ridge-line of mountains could be seen, a border between this province and the one beneath it. Yet these mountains paled in size compared to the Throat of the World's height even without the two being next to each other for reference.

With Lydia slightly leading the way, the two women began their walk. They may have a long walk before them, but at least this time it was on solid ground and had better scenery to look at this time.

* * *

Echoes of water dripping in drops could be heard in the air. The faint, dreary echoes seemed to ring on longer than they should. Perhaps living in a place like this one's entire life made them used to it. Or perhaps feelings of dread were somehow amplifying such small, meaningless noises to a nauseating degree.

For Illia, dripping water was the least of her worries.

In fact, the worries currently at the forefront of her mind only seemed to pile onto her already massive anxiety. This was really happening, wasn't it? She was really going to go through with this? Actually try to escape? She mulled her plan over in her head with very step she took down the tower's steps and closer to the ground floor. It would be simple: just run away. Go outside into the open, out of earshot of her witch-sisters, and get as far away as she could. It could work, it had to work! All she had to do was just get outside-

"Illia." No no NO! She'd hoped not to run into anyone along the way! And judging from the voice, it was obvious who had spotted her. She slowed her movement, turned her head, and her fears increased as her worry was confirmed.

"Movera..." Her witch-sister could be seen next to the opposite wall, arms crossed. Out of all of them, she was the one she could stand the least! Her face had smug and condescending written all over it. Illia always hated when she gave that look, to her especially. Always looking down on her, belittling her, thinking her worth less than the very ground she walked on. Sometimes it was as if she could read her more easily than she could read herself. But that couldn't be true, and definitely not now; there was no way she knew of her plan. She could talk her way out of this, "I was just... on my way... to carry out Mother's will..."

"To bring her a sacrifice, so she may ascend...?" Movera's face did not change, yet Illia managed to nod in response all the same, "Well then, all the best to you in your duty..."

Illia took a breath of relief, but forced herself to restrain it as to not make it so obvious. It seemed to convince her, and she could actually be gone, "Th-thank you, Movera, I appreciate that-"

"Is what I would've said." The Imperial's heart stopped for half a beat. Relief in one second followed by absolute dread the very next! What did she mean? Didn't she believe her?

"H-huh? What do you mean...?" she asked.

"I mean..." Movera casually stepped to the side, revealing that she was actually standing in between something; a mage's staff, red shaft with a small crystal adorned at the top. One look at it, and Illia's eyes widened, "How exactly do you plan on luring in a sacrifice 'without' your charming staff?"

Illia struggled to maintain her outward composure, but inside her heart began racing. Why hadn't she remembered her staff?! It was common practice for her coven to use an illusion staff on the unsuspecting person to make them more susceptible to... suggestions. If she'd had it on her, it would've made her cover story more convincing! She was so dead-set on abandoning this place she'd forgotten about it completely! What would she do now? Could she explain this?

"Of-of course not..." Illia softly spoke, "Did you really think... that I would forget it-?"

"I think?" Movera took a single step forward, "You want to know what I think? I think... that you were planning on running away." In turn, Illia took a single step back and away.

"What?"

"I also think it's time we stop playing innocent here..." Movera continued, "You, Illia, are weak, both in the Arcane, but more importantly you are weak-willed. It's a wonder why Mother ever continued to keep you around, much less groom you into something even resembling what she herself is." She slowly advanced closer to her with every word she spoke. Her tone was unrelenting in its biting edge as well as her face maintaining its perpetual smugness, "Of course, that in itself was never a bad thing, as there will always be last places in races to the top. No, that you plan to leave the very coven that took you in, raised you, and molded you into what you should be striving to be is an insult!"

"We sacrifice innocent lives!" Illia suddenly found herself exclaiming, "There is nothing good about this place, about us! I... I don't want anything more to do with it!"

"And you really think you can survive out there on your own?" Movera asked, "Please Illia, you wouldn't last a day. The Nords of this land greatly mistrust mages as well as Imperials. They will look upon you and know what you really are. At best you will be ignored, and at worst, you will be struck down..." Movera then crossed her arms and smirked, "On the other hand, a weak witch like you being removed from this world probably won't be too bad a thing."

At the beginning Illia's being was filled with terror that she had been found out. But now, with every word her witch-sister leveled at her, that fear slowly turned into anger. She was not weak! She wasn't! Her ice spells were definitely powerful, Mother had told her so! Just who was Movera here to tell her that she wasn't worth anything!?

"You... you stop talking now..." she tried to threaten. However, Movera merely heard the light stutter and her condescending smirk flashed.

"Maybe you and Mother should have a little chat. Here, I think I'll escort you to her-"

"NO!" Illia's body practically moved of its own accord. Her hand building potent frost from her fingertips, she built up the power and projected it forward into a sharpened ice spike. Her hand thrust forward and propelled the projectile out at her witch-sister. In a split second, she realized the full weight of what she had just done.

Movera on the other hand casually side-stepped the magicka projectile, allowing it to crash and shatter into the wall behind her. The two witches looked at each other, exchanging different faces. Illia's face had returned to terror, while Movera's was now holding excitement upon it.

"And you have attacked first, sister; you've sealed your fate!" her voice exclaimed.

"No no! I didn't mean to-!" Illia waved her hands in front of her to try and reason. But her witch-sister would hear no more, as her own hand began to build up magicka energy of her own. It coalesced into a small, smoking ball of fire, which she promptly launched at her. Illia quickly followed Movera's previous example and jumped out of the way, albeit gracelessly than she did. She hit the ground on her front, hard, while the fireball continued to sail past her to its new target. The fireball impacted against the wooden door directly behind Illia, striking it at its handle, and blew the door straight open. Light from the outside world instantly poured in to illuminate the darkness.

During Illia's eyes taking their time to adjust to the change in light, she glanced back over at her new assailant. Her own eyes had widened in their own surprise. Perhaps that was not intended on her part, but she had indirectly helped her. The way was now open to her, and she needed to capitalize on it! She scrambled to her feet as best she could, once or twice stumbling on the slickness of the wet rock floor. Her quick jostling movements managed to loosen the hood from her head, exposing it to the world around her. Behind her Movera's voice could be heard,

"Stop! Come back here!"

But Illia was already moving, running towards the light's embrace. It was immediately almost blinding, plus with no hood on to shield her only meant the light was even brighter than usual. There were still the broken, decrepit stone walls of the fort that she inhabited surrounding her. They stretched out like a father's broken arms trying in vain to shield his children from the outside world. But they couldn't hide the distant imagery of the world beyond. Skyrim was teeming with vibrantly colored trees, some of them rich green, but most of them were more warm colored. What a beautiful place, how could one say this place could ever be inhospitable?

The sound of fire magicka charging up behind her broke Illia from her temporary land gaze. She looked back and reacted just in time to dodge another fire ball hurled at her. Movera advanced closer to her, her face hardened with frustration.

"Give it up, sister, you're going nowhere!"

"Just leave me be!" Illia exclaimed, "If you think so little of me, why would you want me around?! I don't want to be here anymore anyway, so just let me go!"

"Don't you see? You may be weak, but you're still part of us," Movera shook her head, "And as such, you could never run away from what you really are- part of Sylvia's coven!" Despite light frost emanating from Illia's fingertips, she clenched them into hard fists.

"I see..." she said, "If you really won't leave me alone... then I'll just have to stop you from saying anything!"

"You think it's just me you'll have to worry about?" Movera taunted, "You also think the others wouldn't have heard such loud commotion we've made? They'll know, and they'll be down here, for you. You really need to learn when you're outdone-"

"SHUT UP!" Illia charged both of her hands with potent ice this time. Her focus felt more one point this time as opposed to before. One right after the other, she launched sharpened icicles at her Movera. To her credit, the other witch was not simply able to side-step either attacks this time. Instead, as she remained stationary, she was forced to use one hand to project a spell ward in front of her. The clear shield slowly formed before her, well before either projectile could strike her own body. They made contact with the ward, and appeared to instantly melt, with the ward flickering briefly as they did.

This should have been enough for Illia to see that her simple magic attacks might not be enough, but her blood within was boiling with anger. Movera had pushed her one too many times simply with her being who she is, and now it seemed that she had finally gone too far. She could have very well let her be, but was instead threatening to make Sylvia herself aware of her intentions? No, she had to be dealt with. Which meant she wouldn't be giving up on single-usage of her spells.

One by one, one right after the other, hand launched an ice spike and another created one. Each one launched into the ward dissipated, with the ward slowly regaining its strength in between impacts. Its caster held a sturdy face, but inside, Movera was slowly being gripped with uncertainty.

'Blast it! She keeps launching these pesky attacks at my ward! Is she doing this intentionally?!' she thought with gritted teeth, 'At this rate, my magicka will be depleted purely from defense before I can counterattack! I've got to do something...' She held her unused had out to the side and let the magicka build up another fireball within it. It was now or never...

Everything before her suddenly flashed, and she felt her very magicka within her snap. In the wake of her surprise, she realized what had just happened- her ward had imploded upon too many of Illia's ice spikes colliding with it too frequently. She stumbled backward a few steps, and realized neither of her hands were projecting the spells she'd had before! Impossible! How had she managed to-?

Illia on the other hand was equally surprised. She'd been so focused on wailing Movera down constantly with her ice spikes she'd barely even registered that this was a possible outcome! And now, Movera was most likely defenseless, no immediate magicka available to save her. This next move would have to be quick and decisive. She brought her hands together, ice building up and merging together. She could feel it growing thicker in between her hands, almost threatening to break free from herself. Finally she thrust both of hands forward, and a larger, more massive ice spike sailed through the air. Movera's eys steadily grew more and more panicked as the realization set in.

"Grgh-!" The massive ice spike embedded itself through her midsection, throwing her to the ground and on her back. She coughed up blood, red droplets staining the front of her black robe. Illia's haze of anger quickly dissipated, and she looked upon what had just happened with clearer eyes. Her witch-sister Movera had just been mortally impaled, by her own attack!

"Wha-?" she uttered. She slowly advanced towards her body, moving quicker until she full on dashed over. The sight of her witch-sister's body nearly caused her to dry-heave right there. The ice spike that penetrated her midsection had almost melted to smoothness in the back. Dark red blood stained the base of it where it embedded itself in the front. The result was the ice took on a mix of a light blue and dark red glow all at once.

"Lu-... lucky hit..." Movera uttered, then proceeded to cough blood straight out her mouth, "I-I admit... I didn't think you'd... you'd be capable of this...!"

"Movera..." Illia softly said, "I didn't mean to... Here, I'll give you a-" Her words were cut short when the dying witch suddenly grasped the front of her robes with her fist. Despite being gravely injured, Illia could feel great strength in the pull alone. She was pulled in closer so that by now she had a clearer view of Movera's pained, yet hardened face.

"Don't you dare-" she started, then stopped when a bout of coughing interrupted her. Illia tried to recoil her head as best she could to avoid stray blood droplets being sprayed on her, "Don't you dare ... pity me! After all, a REAL witch of the... the coven of Darklight Tower... would never do that..." Slowly, Illia could feel Movera's grip on her robe growing looser and looser, "This will not be... forgotten, 'sister'... Fight? Run? What will... you..." The gripping hand slipped from off of her robe, and her head slumped to the side.

Illia frantically pulled herself back up to her feet. This wasn't right, she hadn't meant to 'kill' her! All she'd wanted was to just escape from this place! To get as far away from it as she could! But she had to be there and... and now this!

"What, what do I do?" she said. Her head darted back towards the tower, and its blown open door. Had the others heard her, like Movera had said? Were they really on their way? If they were, what should she do? Fight them off? Run from them? Of course, what about... Mother?

One of the most powerful mages she'd ever known. Her knowledge and execution of arcane spells definitely far exceeded her own. Combined with her intention to ascend, and become a hagraven? If that were to happen, there was that chance that she could track her down somehow if she were to run... What if she herself would be used as a sacrifice for that very ritual?

Memories flashed to the front of her mind, of innocent travelers whom had been brought into the tower by her witch-sisters. People of many races, genders, sizes, and classes, all completely unaware of their future fates. There had been many more witches that had resided in this tower before, and then had gone as a result of the ritual. The special ritual known to her witch coven to convert a witch into a hagraven; an amalgam of human and beast not unlike a werewolf. Illia found herself remembering the travelers' faces right before they would meet their end, just how unassuming, yet content they looked. Was that really such a fair fate to befall them?

She looked down at her hands, still bearing tiny blood droplets of Movera's blood on them. She shook them hard, then rubbed them on her robes, desperate to clean them. Perhaps this was to be a symbolic gesture as well. Just as she wiped her hands clean of the blood on them, she would cleanse herself of this blemish from her life. No more would travelers fall victim to Mother-no, to Sylvia's ritual! It would end now! In her heart she still knew it was more or less a suicide endeavor, attempting to kill those whom she once called family. One more look at the face of Movera, somehow still bearing its smug grin, was enough to steel her resolve. There would be no turning back-

A sound of crunching leaves behind her, and Illia practically spun around. She instinctively held up her hands, ready to launch her magicka at a possibly new assailant. Her heart beating fast, her vision leveled, and she gazed upon who stood before her.

"Who-who are you?!"

* * *

"So, Siffre? I was wondering something," Lydia casually said. The two women calmly walked along the unbeaten path, in a Hold unfamiliar to the both of them.

"Hm? What is it?" Siffre asked.

"We're going to Riften right now, to hopefully get you a new weapon," Lydia said, "But I was wondering... what weapons are you proficient with? I mean, when we first met you were wielding a single-handed sword..."

"I do like using blades," Siffre softly replied, "But... not just ones for one hand. I actually prefer... the kind used with two hands. "

"Greatswords?" Lydia asked, to which Siffre nodded, "Those do tend to be more expensive..." She drifted her hand down to her side pouch filled with coins to get a rough feel of it, "It feels like we've got..." She looked back up at her thane, "Maybe we'll just see our options when we get there. I would suggest for now, stick to what you are most proficient with. You wouldn't want to run afoul as a result of what you're not the best with."

"I-I know..." Siffre replied, "I'm just saying that I am proficient with blades... both for one hand and for two..." Siffre trailed off again, but from looking at her face, Lydia saw that she was no longer immediately focused on her at the moment.

"Siffre?" she asked. Her thane's walking speed had slowed as well, forcing her to slow down as well, "What is it?"

"Look over there," Siffre pointed out. Lydia followed her pointed finger towards a distant figure: a stone structure, broken, weathered, and decaying. It definitely looked to be the ruined remains of an old fort, with shells of walls stretching out and away from a larger tower. Bits of moss and algae could be seen growing on some of the stones which helped it to blend in with the color of the Rift's eternal autumn color.

However, there was another thing that stuck out about this fort: sets of scorch and burn marks at the very edges of the walls reach. From the smoldering embers and dying flames, they were fairly recent.

"It's an old fort of some kind," Lydia noted, "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"No wait... I want to look closer..." Siffre cut in, slowly advancing towards the fort's outer walls.

"My thane, wait-!" Lydia said. In this brief moment, Siffre had managed to slip forward so that she was now leading the way. With a light sigh, Lydia picked up the rear. There was no harm in the immediate moment, she was still here with her, had an adequate means of defending her from any assailant, and from what she could feel her senses were sharpened and alert. Whatever would mean them harm, she'd be ready!

They reached the edge of the fort's walls and slowly rounded its corner. The area within turned out to be a massive courtyard. In a way, these walls that stretched out and opposite each other felt like arms, shielding all in its center from something.

But this courtyard was not empty: something could be seen there. Or rather, someone.

"What-?" Siffre said, while at the same time her food stepped down and crunched a set of sticks beneath her boot. That single noise was enough, as a figure jumped to attention in response. The black-robed figure raised hands out and at her sides, fingers dripping with some sort of misty substance.

"Who-who are you?!"

* * *

-And there we have it! As a side note, anyone else notice how criminally Illia is underused in fanfiction? Here's hoping I can help with that a little (as one of my personal favorites!). Share your thoughts in the reviews and I'll get back to you all with the next chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

-So, regarding this chapter, turns out the content I'd originally planned to have for a single chapter had actually exceeded my usual word count preference! As such, I had to 'break' what I had written into two separate chapters. But I suppose the good news is that this means hopefully the next 'part' will be getting released much sooner than usual. But anyway, enjoy!-

* * *

Lydia's protective instincts quickly kicked in. She quickly drew her sword, metal scrapping against leather, and held her shield forward while quickly stepping just in front of her thane.

"My thane, stay back!" she quickly said, then focused her attention on this unknown person before them, "And you! Keep your distance if you know what's good for you!" Siffre's right hand flexed once, and was again reminded of her lack of weapon. Maybe this time would be a good idea to not be at the forefront of danger. Nevertheless, she held her shield in front of her and looked upon this stranger.

It was a woman, dressed in a black robe. It had a small bit of cloth hanging off at the neck area, obviously as being meant to conceal the head as a hood. It was pulled back however, and the woman's head could be seen. Her complexion suggested she was young in her years, as there didn't seem to be any wrinkles anywhere on her face. Her eyes however held darkness around them, even a few small bags underneath. It looked as though this woman wasn't getting enough sleep. As for her eyes themselves, they were wide open and leveled straight at the two warriors, but holding fear rather than anything else.

"Whoa, now hold on-!" the woman shook her hands in front of her. This action only provoked Lydia's agitation further and prompted her to hold her sword pointed out alongside her shield in a more threatening display.

"I said stay where you are, where we can see you!" Lydia said, "You're a witch, so there's no telling what else you might try..."

"Else?" the woman said. It was then that she glanced to her side, and was reminded of the dead body of her witch fellow, the end of a bloody ice spike sticking out from her midsection. She looked back at Siffre and Lydia, head shaking rapidly, "N-no! Please, I-I can explain..."

"You... you killed her, didn't you?" Siffre said, pointing her free hand at the corpse at her feet.

"I-I swear, I never meant for that to happen!" the woman protested, "Everything just happened so fast, and I..." Her head suddenly snapped to the side, towards the stone tower with the opened door, "Oh no... by the gods, no...!"

"What?" Siffre asked.

"The others, they're coming..." the witch said, then turned back to the two women, "My witch-sisters, they really are coming! They'll see what's happened here and they'll know!"

"And will come down upon us as well?" Lydia skeptically asked, "Tell me, is this some sick ploy to kill us or something?"

"I swear, I meant none of this to happen!" the witch exclaimed, "I just wanted to get away from here, but trouble keeps finding me...!" Lydia scowled and gritted her teeth all at once. A likely story; they'd be fools to take some witch up at her word. Whatever she was planning, Lydia wasn't about to let anything happen to her or her thane!

To her credit, some noises and footsteps could be heard from inside the tower, slowly growing louder. Perhaps some of the witch's story was true. All the same, it wouldn't bode well for their current situation. The witch was frantically eyeing this entrance as well, as if dreading who was to emerge from it. If her attention was focused solely on that...

"My thane," she spoke low enough so that she was certain the witch wouldn't hear, "This might be our chance! If more are coming out and they're all distracted by each other, we'll be able to slip away! Right?" Lydia looked back at Siffre's face completely. Her narrowed eyes were focused on the witch, but... something was off. She wasn't staring at her with anger or paranoia as she was sure she had been. They just looked... different.

"Tell me something, witch..." she called out, clearly having completely ignored what Lydia had said, and possibly that she had even said anything at all, "Is it really your intent to leave this... this place here?" Lydia's eyes began to widen; was her hearing failing her yet again, or had she actually heard that?

"My thane! What are you doing?!" she practically hissed, "We should leave, now!"

"Huh? Leave?" the woman shot Siffre her own look of confusion, "Well, yes er- well, I mean, it's what I wanted to do, at first, but-" In the midst of her stammering and stumbling over words, she groaned, "Look, I don't deny that bad deeds were performed here! But it... it's just gone too far! I simply cannot be part of this anymore!" Lydia's eyes were trained on the witch, yet caught out of the corner of her eye her thane taking a step back, her head lowered slightly. Her gaze turned from hardened to thoughtful, just like that. She looked at her, few seconds feeling stretched out into lengthy hours in her mind. Just how complicated was this being made out to be?

"We have to help."

Very complicated.

"What?!" Lydia practically exclaimed, "Are you mad? Why? Why do we need to help this... witch-mage?"

"I do have a name, you know..." the witch's voice could be heard.

"Lydia, listen to me," Siffre spoke, both lowly and concisely. Her voice carried consistent deep rumbles within it, yet she did not stutter nor pause within it, "I know exactly what I speak of when I say this: we have to help her."

"But why?! What reason to we have?" Lydia pressed.

"Just-" Siffre started, but cut herself short, "I... I have my reasons, alright? Even if I... I don't care to discuss them right now... especially now... But please trust me, it's something I do feel strongly about..." Lydia's eyes held trained on her thane practically bear her soul before her. There was some reason why they would need to risk their lives for the sake of some witch whom they'd never met before, nor had reason to believe she herself wouldn't try anything? Her mouth hung open and her gaze drifted down as she shook her head.

"I don't believe this... I really don't believe this... this complete madness!" she spoke aloud, then looked back up at Siffre, "And what's more, you don't even have a weapon 'to' help out here! Are you really intending on both of us doing this with 'that' little thing to consider-?!"

"What in Oblivion...?" A new person's voice carried out. Siffre and Lydia turned their heads around towards the fort's entry. There, emerging from the broken doorway's frame, three more women dressed as the one they'd encountered out here swiftly made their way outside. With one leading, the other two behind her held hands that practically dripped with arcane energy spells of some sort. Each one's faces also held mixtures of alarm and hardened anger. Their gazes were leveled at the two women warriors, but at the same time at the other witch.

"Illia?" the first witch questioned. She looked down at the ground to see the body of the dead witch, the melting ice spike still protruding from her belly. She looked back up at her with a snarl, "What is this? What has happened here?!"

"Movera!" another witch exclaimed, "You killed her, didn't you?!"

"I-I..." the other witch woman stammered.

"And there!" the third witch pointed out towards Lydia and Siffre, "Two armed travelers, uncharmed! Just what are you planning, Illia?!"

"Whatever it is, it's clear what must be done..." the first witch spoke lowly, as arcane essence began to glow bright yellow in her fingertips, "We kill them all!"

"But Lera! Wouldn't Mother prefer them to be alive?" one of the other witches asked, nonetheless magicka building from her own fingertips as well.

"She'll have to make do with corpses!" the first witch, 'Lera' said, "What's important now is that our dear Illia here appears to have gone rogue!" With that, she launched the charged fireball from her hand straight at the witch, Illia. The other witch in question quickly held her own hand up, and a blue, transparent field appeared before her from her hand, causing the fireball to dissipate upon contact.

The other two witches made their way around Lera and towards Siffre and Lydia.

"My Thane! Get behind me and stay-" Lydia started while hoisting her shield back into position.

"I'll be fine!" Siffre urged. The housecarl watched as her thane moved to her side with her own shield thrust up similarly to hers. She couldn't be serious.

"Don't be foolish! You don't have a weapon to fight back with!" Lydia urged.

"I still have a shield!" Siffre pressed, small, rumbling vibrations emanating from her mouth, "Besides, you said it yourself... no reason we can't fight alongside each other..." Lydia's mouth twisted to respond again, until she cut herself short. Turning her head back forward, she was reminded of the two witches who were about to bear down on them. Both were dressed in hooded black robes; one's hands glowing with light blue magicka, the other with light violet.

"You two think you stand a chance?" one of them taunted. As one, they launched their volley of ice spikes and lightning bolts at them. The ice shattered loudly off of Lydia's shield, while the bolt crackled upon impact with Siffre's. Both women weren't affected precisely by the elemental natures of the attack, but still felt the slight push each one gave into striking against their shields.

'Mages,' Lydia thought, 'Those have always been tricky opponents; still, just keep my shield up, blocking their ranged spells, and I should be fine...' Slowly, one step at a time, the two women carefully advanced forward. Impacts from the respective spells crashing into their shields sending hard vibrations up their arms. In front of them, with every two steps they took, the two mages took single steps back. Their faces slowly turning from focus and concentration to slight worry.

"What are you doing?" the other mage called out, "Y-you can hardly keep that up forever! J-just give up now, or else-"

"Silence Vedina!" her witch partner chastised, "Just keep up your assault on them!"

"I am!" the other witch Vedina said, "But they still keep-oh!" She never got to finish her sentence as Siffre was already upon her. Once her shield was close enough, she swiped her arm out, smacking the armor item hard against the witch's arms as well as head. Her arms were knocked away without effort, completely halting the onslaught of lightning being leveled against her. But the real fruit of this attack was how the shield impacted the witch's head. There was a subtle sound of a crack that could be heard on the other side of her shield. Siffre nearly squinted her eyes with cringe at the sound. Nevertheless, her shield bash had effectively neutralized the witch entirely, and she fell backward on the ground in a heap of black cloth and splattered red blood.

"Vedina! NO!" the other witch exclaimed with horror-filled eyes. Her head spun back up to face Lydia before her, "You'll pay dearly for that-!"

"No! Time to finish this!" Lydia countered. Following her thane's example, once upon her opponent she swiped her shield outward to knock away the mage's arms, stopping her from launching those blasted ice spikes at her shield. Her counterattack left the other woman physically dazed for but a second, yet that was all the time Lydia would need. She wasted no time in thrusting her sword straight forward, into the unguarded midsection of the black-garbed witch. Blood spurted out from the stab's entry point, as well as out of the woman's mouth nearly right after.

One after the other, the two witches fell backward into heaps of black cloth and flesh. Their very fingertips still sparkled with a little magicka before fizzling out completely. It left their hands, just as life slowly left their eyes as well.

"Alright..." Lydia said, breathing two huffs of breath, "Nice work, my thane..." What sounded like glass being shattered immediately grabbed their attention. The two looked up to see the two other witches still engaged in their own struggle. But by now, as the aggressive witch was pelting the other with spells, a flash of light broke in front of her, and she stumbled back in a sort of dazed state.

"That's it for your ward," the first witch 'Lera' said, while magicka charged up in her hand again, "And now you die!"

"N-no! NO!" the witch named Illia held her hand up before her, a vain display to shield herself physically.

"No..." Lydia heard Siffre next to her speak softly. She glanced out the corner of her eye to her thane, in time to see her eyes take on a different shade of determination. Her back straightened slightly as she sharply drew in breath, until,

**"Fus-RO!"**

Lydia recoiled, but not from tremors, vibrations, or any sort of energy that wasn't even leveled at her directly. She still watched as a transparent wave of sheer... sheer power, just burst from her thane's lips! This Thu'um... it sounded somewhat similar to back when she'd heard her speak for the first time! The way it erupted from her lips with the force of a powerful wind, with the roar of a thunderclap to match! But, it was different this time.

She watched as it sailed forth towards the other witch, who was just becoming aware that something had happened as well.

"Gaahh-!" It passed straight through her, and she staggered, as if she were about to be carried away by it. Her feet scrambled back and forth, desperately trying to regain her central balance.

Lydia then watched as her thane suddenly burst forward towards the witch, shield drawn directly in front of her. The witch had nearly regained her footing, but she could make in time. All she'd need to do was take one solid swipe with her shield to strike-

"Argh!" the witch was suddenly blown to the side, a small spike of light blue now embedded her black robes. Siffre herself was nearly caught off guard by the sudden change in movement she'd have to enact. She still managed to skid to a halt and better read the situation that just happened right in front of her: the witch lay on the ground, dead from a spike of pure ice, thrown at her by the other witch whom she and Lydia were just talking to.

The other witch in question, Illia, stood with her trembling hands still held out and forward, light blue mist smoking from her fingertips. She was panting, her eyes widened with what looked like fear, all completely fixed upon the now deceased witch that lay on the ground. By her own hand.

"My thane!" Lydia called out. From a few yards away, this display may have been all Lydia could identify as well. But when witches were involved, there was no telling what else was in store beyond what they displayed outwardly. She quickly rushed over to her thane's side, her sword still at the ready.

"I'm fine Lydia-" Siffre tried to say.

"By all the Gods," Lydia breathed, "That was the Thu'um, wasn't it? Though it sounded... kinda different..." Her gaze swapped back and forth between her thane and the dead witch on the ground, "So this was what those Greybeards had taught you, wasn't it?"

"My... sisters..." the sound of low muttering brought their attentions back to Illia. The witch still held a sort of thousand-mile stare, hardly focusing on the present or what was before her, "My... my sisters..."

"And you!" Lydia tried to call out, "You just stay right there, no funny business either." She pointed the tip of her sword out in Illia's direction to solidify her point. This gesture it seemed was enough to bring the witch back to reality. The sight of a gleaming sword tip pointing straight at her was enough to make her jump back a little with a yelp.

"Ah! D-don't kill me, please!" the witch begged.

"Hold on..." Siffre spoke softly. At the same time she held her unarmed hand up to Lydia's sword arm and brought it down gently, to her housecarl's chagrin, "Did you... did 'we', just kill your 'actual' sisters?"

"Er, I..." the witched stammered, "Y-yes. But i-it had to be done! They... they needed to die..."

"Your sisters? They needed to die?" Siffre asked. The witch met Siffre's eyes in a glance, as if she'd picked up on that accusatory infliction the Dragonborn had uttered.

"N-no! That's not what I..." she trailed off, watching the two warrior women for a moment. But Siffre and Lydia continued to stand attentively, listening to her. When they continued to not move, only then did she speak again after sighing, "They weren't really my 'sisters', or what, 'Blood-kin' as you Nords call it? It's just what we called each other, having lived and served in the same coven..."

"And they're all dead?" Lydia cautiously asked, while sparing glances towards the tower's broken entrance, "No more are going to suddenly emerge to surprise us?"

"No... not all," the witch spoke solemnly, "Lera, Vedina, Hesta, even Movera... These all are my- 'were', my witch sisters... but Mother, Sylvia..." Siffre and Lydia shared a look with each other.

"Your... mother?" the Dragonborn asked.

"She would be at the very top... awaiting a... a sacrifice, to be brought to her..."

"And now that we're all that's left..." Lydia intentionally trailed off. She tightened her grip on her blade's handle and held its tip pointing back in the witch's direction, "Was this your plan-?"

"Lydia stop!" Siffre spoke while holding an arm between the housecarl and the mage. Her volume held steady at normal tone, yet the vibrations that came through were just potent to get her point across, "I really don't think she means to... to trick us like that."

"Yes, that is true!" the witch readily agreed, "I'm glad one of you understands me at least... But, just who are you exactly? You two who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, just in time as I had planned to escape?"

"Siffre, and Lydia," the Dragonborn quickly introduced despite the housecarl's quick look of protest.

"Then, I am Illia," the witch said as well.

"So what, you were just planning to... to run away from these witches?" Lydia said, "Until we just happened to be nearby?"

"Yes, I was planning to run away," Illia said, then looked down at the bodies of her fallen brethren, "I don't deny it: what we do here, to the innocent lives we've brought within this tower..." She looked back up at the two ladies before her, "But not me! I never killed anyone before!"

"Really...?" Lydia's remark was just soft enough and her gesture to the dead witches' bodies was also subtle enough. Both were enough to earn her a look from Siffre in return.

"Well, besides just now, but- argh, you know what I mean!" Illia said, "And I was going to try and run away, but then I... I was actually planning to... to try and kill them myself! It may have been a death sentence, but I had to try! I couldn't let them prey on the innocent anymore! And yes, that was when I noticed you two showing up."

Lydia listened to this witch try and explain herself. Her grip on her sword hilt loosened, but just barely. It was wise to hold it at the ready, especially when dealing with mages. During the years that she'd known Farengar, Whiterun's court wizard, she'd always had this notion that mages were always sliver-tongued, able to talk their way out of most anything. This mage was standing before two armored warriors; one of them was without a proper weapon, but that was besides the point. Who knew what she exactly she was capable of, no matter what she claimed. She would easily be dispatched if she tried anything funny, Lydia would make sure of that.

"So you're saying... you want to kill your 'mother'? This Sylvia?" Siffre softly spoke.

"I had no illusions that I would survive that attempt," Illia said with sigh, "Running would be better, but..." a hand indicated to the bodies on the ground, "I'm a little past that point, aren't I? But..." She looked back up at the two women, "Hold a moment... what about you two?"

"What?" Lydia blinked.

"You're both obviously skilled warriors," Illia explained, "And you were both able to deal with... them, well enough," her hand pointed once again to the bodies on the ground, "So, would you be willing and able to help me... kill Sylvia? Kill her and end her coven from preying on the innocent for good?" Lydia blinked a second time, followed by a light shaking of her head. Now what was she trying to do in roping the two of them into this insanity? Who knows what would be in store for them if they decided to follow her or her plans.

"Of course no-"

"Absolutely."

Both answers came simultaneously, and Lydia almost did a double take from almost not hearing correctly. But... no, there was no way what she thought she heard was what was actually said!

"My thane? Surely you're not serious?" she asked.

"I am... and I say, we help her." Lydia's eyes widened, but this time for a reason she had not considered in the slightest. What was happening? Why was going along with the plight of some witch even being considered?! Why was her thane of all people suggesting they do this even?

"My thane... what is going on?" she cautiously asked, "Ever... ever since we first noticed this tower, you've been... eager to get involved..."

"Lydia, I can assure you... if you think I'm being 'controlled', or even... even if you think 'she's' controlling me," Siffre urged while indicating to Illia, "That is not the case. This is just something that... I feel I must help." Lydia could only stare at her unrelenting eyes slightly slack-jawed herself. She was serious about this?

"My... my thane," Lydia shook her head with a scoff, "Please be reasonable here! What reason do we, be it me 'or' you, have to risk our own necks for some witch?! We do not owe her anything! And also, need I remind you 'again' that you still don't have a weapon?!" She pointed back down to Siffre's unarmed right hand. To her credit her thane actually did look down at it. Her gaze lingered upon her opened palm for a moment, until it tightened into a fist and she looked back up again.

"Lydia... this needs to be done," Siffre spoke softly, yet forcefully, vibrations accenting nearly every syllable pronounced, "Is it merely as the right thing to do? Possibly... But I would do this, with or without your help...!"

"But why?!" Lydia exclaimed, "What is it about this that makes it 'so important' to you?" Siffre's mouth opened as if to reply, but she held her tongue at the last minute. Lydia watched her, expecting some sort of excuse, thus the pause was a little unexpected. The Dragonborn's eyes narrowed a little, as if in thought, and the hard expression she wore on her face steadily grew softer. She then glanced to her side at Illia, still standing before them. Her face held impatience, but seemed decent enough to not say nor rush anything.

"Let's... let's just say... it does have to do with me," Siffre looked back at her housecarl, "And that things like this... they do pertain to me... And perhaps I'll explain it further to you... in private..." It was Lydia's turn to soften her hard face. What was she talking about? She really had a reason for this? Well whatever it was... she would be hearing it later.

Nonetheless, Lydia still shook her head while looking at the ground with her closed eyes, "Unbelievable... Just, unbelievable..." She looked back up at her, "Then... I will follow you and keep you protected," She then snapped her head over to Illia and raised her finger to her, "And you! What I said earlier still stands; you try anything, anything at all! No hesitation..." She trailed off and lowered her own tone at the end. Hopefully her threatening implication was more than enough to get her point across. Both her and Siffre gave smiles of differing degrees.

"Thank you, Lydia..." Siffre said.

"And my thanks to you as well, both of you for your... understanding," Illia said, "I think... yes, I think the chances of this working seem... better, than before."

"Alright then, just it's just a matter of slaying this 'mother-witch' of yours?" Lydia lowered her blade and shield for the first time while she spoke to Illia, "Sounds easy enough."

"But... oh, I'm not sure; the sight of the three of us approaching her, two of them 'would-be-thralls', wouldn't it be enough to suspect something is amiss...?" Illia suddenly muttered to herself while turning away. This in response caused Lydia and Siffre to exchange looks of confusion between each other.

"Ah yes, that's a detail you've 'considered', haven't you?" Lydia snarked.

"Where did you say this Sylvia was?" Siffre asked.

"At the top of the tower, overlooking the lay of the land..." Illia absently responded while pacing around the dead witches' bodies. She continued to do this for a few more steps, each one building up Lydia's frustration within.

"You haven't thought of any plan, have you...?" Lydia said.

"Lydia-" Siffre tried to speak, until she was cut off.

"Hey, I'm trying my best, alright?!" Illia spun around at took a few steps towards the warrior. Lydia might have interpreted this as a hostile action had she not heard the rather pathetic protest tone in the witch's voice, "I never thought I would be doing this in the first place anyway... But I have no choice! Mother's coven takes innocent lives from random travelers, and now the time has come to... to..." In the middle of her tirade, Illia trailed off. Lydia had prepared to raise her sword in case she dare attempt anything in that moment, thus she relaxed her tense state again when she saw her take a few steps away, her face in thought. She and Siffre watched as she mumbled something to herself.

"What? What is it?" Siffre asked.

"Innocent... lives..." Illia could be heard saying. The two women watched her face carefully, until her eyes suddenly and practically glowed, "I-I think I've got it! I think I've got a plan!" She herself looked back at them, "It's one where you may not have a weapon on you, but that can play to our advantage!"

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked, eyebrow raised.

"Hold on, let me check for something..." Illia ducked away again, this time towards the body of one of the fallen witches. Lydia and Siffre carefully walked around to her, watching as she cautiously dug through the robe's pockets, "Where, Movera? I know you... hmmm, ah! Here it is...!" She stood back up and turned around to reveal a small, iron key in hand.

"A key...?" Lydia said with skepticism.

"Alright, would the both of you please follow me?" Illia said, motioning for the two of them to follow her, "I'll lead the two of you up and through the tower; I'll need to visit the quarters first to investigate something though..." Cautiously, Siffre and Lydia walked forward towards Illia. The black robed mage then guided their way as they entered through the doorway of the tower, afternoon light quickly being replaced by harsher darkness.

The room that greeted them was a circular room, and the air felt musty, combined with a bit of moist. The stone floor itself was uneven in its brick placements, as well as wet from the moisture. Both Siffre and Lydia's own footsteps they took clanked audibly against the ground, while in front of them Illia's footsteps could hardly be heard at all. She led the two of them to the right side of the circular room and straight up what could be seen as a set of stairs that corkscrewed along the outer wall. At first glance, this appeared a sturdy, if dilapidated fort to Lydia, even as she carefully ascended the steps with Siffre.

"More steps?" she said to herself aloud, "Didn't we say we were done with these...?" She wasn't expecting any response, yet to her side she could hear the faintest of a single chuckle from her thane.

"Steps should be the least of your worries..." Illia commented from up the stairs in front of them, "I would walk them up and down every day."

"So, what was it you did here?" Siffre spoke softly, "I mean, you did say you... sacrificed people...?" Illia took a moment to turn her head slightly and glance one eye back at the Dragonborn.

"Why are you talking so softly?" she asked, "There aren't any more of my witch-sisters in this tower to surprise us."

"Huh? Oh..." Siffre said. Behind her, Lydia's eyes frowned; this stranger did not know the truth of why that is, but did she really need to?

"My partner," she quickly cut in, "Between the two of us, I'm the one that does most of the talking, not her." This time was Siffre's turn to look back over her shoulder at her housecarl. Lydia gave her the subtlest of nods.

"Oh, I see," Illia replied, then turned her head back around to face forward, "Well then, apart from sacrifices, we'd mostly just spend our time here, learning what we could of the arcane arts." By now the three of them past by a nearby alchemy station, "Though Vedina... she was always working on alchemy, out of all of us... But, we're not here for any of that, are we? No, of course not..." She led the two further up the tower. It was by now they noticed that the nearby braziers were lit with the gentle glow of flames, illuminating the once dark hallways. Although maybe a little too well; the glow felt a little extra strong, as the light appeared reflected off of the moist stones that made up the tower's walls and floors.

"This place, it's so... so..." Lydia said as they walked, "So dark, and humid, and wicked... how could anyone live here?"

"It's not like we could just go anywhere!" Illia countered, "We're witches, just as you keep reminding of, and we have to make do in a place that's... removed from society." As she spoke she slowed down her pace as her gaze drifted towards the walls along side their path, "Mother always was fascinated by the architecture of ancient Nords. The sort of places looked down by people of today... I remember her saying that when I was first brought here."

"You were... brought here?" Siffre spoke up. She slowed her walk to a halt, causing Lydia and then Illia themselves to stop as well to face her, "How long have you... been here?"

"Probably... since I was a young girl," Illia said with a sigh, "Sylvia... she's called Mother, but... she's not my 'actual' mother, you understand...?"

"Yes, I do," Siffre replied, "I never knew my real parents either..." Lydia's eyes narrowed when she heard that. This was the first time she'd heard her thane even mention anything involving parents. There was only the fact that she had first met her a mere two days ago in Whiterun, and how apparently she had come from Cyrodiil before then. She hadn't elaborated on that further, but... what exactly was her past? That was something Lydia held in her mind for now, but knew that at one point she'd have to remember to bring it up with Siffre.

Preferably when this current nonsense was over and done with first.

By now the trio entered a section of the tower's rooms that were reasonably lit with nearby candles. Within this room itself lay a couple of bookshelves with a number of tomes, in various conditions on the shelves. In the furthest corner stood a different sort of furniture, standing on four legs with five burning candles atop it. The Arcane Enchanter's runes gave off a faint glow on the upper surface of the top, while on the far end of it the strange creature's skull's eye sockets stared straight ahead. Lydia knew what this thing was, having seen it in Farengar's quarters, yet it's actual function and how it worked were still was a mystery to her.

However, the enchanter was not at all what Illia was interested in. She instead made straight for a door off on the side wall that led to another room. Within lay a small number of beds; little cots with the smallest number of cloth for blankets. Each one had a single chest at their foot-end, and Illia made her way in front of one of them.

"Alright Movera, time to see if all your bragging was true," she said to herself as she pulled out the key she had retrieved earlier. She inserted it into the chest's lock, turned it, and gave a smile when the lid opened to her. She then wasted no time in fishing both of her arms in at whatever was inside. From the angle Siffre and Lydia stood at, they could not see the chest's contents.

"Um, what are you doing?" Lydia asked.

"Searching for something. My sister kept boasting that she had one somewhere..." The other two women exchanged a look with each other.

"Had one of what?" Lydia asked again.

"Aha, you really did have it!" Illia returned her whole upper body into view from behind the chest. In her hand she held a rolled up parchment, which she inspected closer, "This right here, is an 'experiment' by my sister Movera- an invisibility scroll!"

"Invisibility?" Siffre said.

"Yes, invisibility usually falls under the school of Illusion magic," Illia explained, "However, it's one of the more harder spells to perform, requiring a highly substantial amount of magicka-"

"Excuse me, but is there a point to this?" Lydia interrupted with a hand held up. Illia quickly flashed a look that could almost have been seen as a pout, but quickly dismissed it with a sigh.

"It's part of my plan, you see," she said, "To kill Sylvia. My plan is that she is at the top of this tower right now, waiting for one of her witch-daughters to bring her a compliant sacrifice. And it is there that we will kill her, and put an end to this cycle..."

"And... you're alright with killing her?" Siffre asked.

"I had thought it over in my head, mostly before you two showed up," Illia said, looking back at them, "Sylvia has been around for a long time. Most of the time she's gladly aided in bringing in sacrifices herself to the once-witches before her. I don't think she regrets it, in fact, I think she's enjoyed it..." she shook her head, "No, this has to be done; No more innocents sacrificed, no more hagravens will come to be."

"Alright, so even with the three of us, she'll be no problem in killing, right?" Lydia said, "With our numbers, we could easily surround her."

"I'm afraid it won't be that simple," Illia held up a hand, "You greatly underestimate her: Sylvia is the most powerful of us witches. For the three of us to suddenly appear before her, she would undoubtedly flee, or at the very least be prepared to face us."

"How though?" Lydia asked, "It's a tower, right? If she's at the top, there's no where for her to run!"

"This is a tower, but it's not exactly isolated!" Illia insisted, "There's a stone bridge connecting the edge of the roof to the upper land behind it. It's there where the rituals are performed, and where she will be."

"Alright! Alright..." Siffre held her hands up and spoke in just the heightened volume for the smallest vibrations to be felt, "So then, what are you proposing?" Illia shifted her feet slightly and held her hands in front of her, a shy and almost guilty pose.

"Well, um..." she said, "My plan is that... I bring one of you with me... as a sacrifice," Siffre's eyes widened a little, and she did tense a bit. On the other hand, Lydia's eyes narrowed and she made a quick reach for her sheathed sword.

"So that really was your plan, wasn't it?" she said, "Use us for some witch ritual anyway, is that it?!" Her response was for the mage to frantically wave and shake her hands in front of her.

"No no no no NO!" she cried, "I swear! You will not be 'actual' sacrifices! Just... playing the part of one. We just need to get her to 'think' I've brought her a sacrifice. That'll get her to lower her guard, and then..." She pounded her fist into the palm of her other hand to seal her point, coupled with determined eyes.

Lydia re-sheathed her sword and brought her hand up to pinch her chin in thought. Fake a capture? A risky plan to be sure, was there even-

Her thoughts were cut short when she felt Siffre's hand on her shoulder. She looked over to her thane's face, eyes matching Illia's determination staring back at her.

"It's doable I think, right?" she whispered between them.

"My thane?"

"Come on, Lydia," Siffre insisted, "What she wants isn't a bad thing... and she's been... honest and upfront thus far." Lydia looked back at Illia, the eyes looking back at her with a degree of uncertainty this time. This was true... With a groan mixed with a sigh, she gave a nod to Siffre, who lightly smiled back.

"Excellent. Now one of you I will present as a sacrifice," Illia continued, "The other one will remain out of sight by way of this..." she indicated to the scroll in her hand.

"But, you said that's for invisibility," this time Siffre pointed out with narrowed eyes, "What sense does that make...?"

"My sister had been trying to work on an invisibility spell by way of different application," Illia said, "She'd been trying to develop one in which this kind of spell could be cast upon someone else, rather than the caster."

"Hold on; just how do we even know this spell of yours- hers, even works?" Lydia said. Illia gave a quick, humorless chuckle.

"If there's one thing I know about my sister, Movera, it's how she was always so eager to demonstrate how 'above me' and 'powerfully adept' compared to me she was," she recounted, "She would've never wasted her breath bragging at me if she she ever doubted her own potential. So the fact that the fruits of her labor are right here, in this scroll, means she... she was successful..." She quickly shook her head, as if all too eager to change the subject, "But anyway, it's a simple illusion spell, thus I promise will not cause harm to anyone. However, that just leaves the matter of whom the spell be cast upon...?" The sudden question nearly caught the two other women off guard. Suddenly they were put into question, a seemingly important one at that. The two looked at each other.

"One of us... has to become... invisible?" Siffre asked. A moment passed, and Lydia shook her head and waved her hand.

"I think... It's probably best if it's me," she volunteered.

"That's what I was considering as well," Illia agreed, "After all, when warriors like yourselves were brought in, they were usually stripped of weapons. It's why I said earlier that you not having one was good for us," she indicated to Siffre.

"Alright, so then..." Siffre softly spoke, "You're going to make 'her', invisible..." she indicated to her housecarl, "And I'll be posing as a sacrifice... so the three of us can then kill her...? Well then, I hope this does work..."

"That is about the sum of it, yes," Illia said, nodding her head, "However, spells like this usually last only for certain lengths of time, especially a crafted spell such as this. It's probably best if this spell is used directly before exiting outside..."

"Alright, alright then, let's get on with this before I change my mind," Lydia insisted. With a nod, Illia led them out of the sleeping chambers again and back through the connecting room. The pathway led them twisting around and up the tower's central shape in the form of a few more flight of steps. By now the hallways were perfectly lit with plentiful small candles to illuminate the path. They allowed the detail on the surrounding stonework to be seen clearer; eroded, rotten, nearly dilapidated, and overall ill-kept. It was a far cry to the more pristine way High Hrothgar's halls had been maintained.

Finally, the path rounded out to a flatter floor, with a definite ceiling no more than about twelve feet above them. A round, circular room, with a single door off to the side. In front, a sigh could be heard from Illia, and she slowly turned back to them.

"Alright, this is it; Sylvia is just beyond this door," she said, pointing to the door, then held the scroll out for all to see, "That means, now is the ideal time to use the spell. So let me just-" She approached Lydia and reached her arm out, scroll in hand. Before she could do anything more however, Lydia's hand quickly reached up and gripped the mage's smaller arm, holding it in place. She applied little force into her grip, yet the mage let out a small yelp from this sudden action. Illia looked up into Lydia's eyes, expecting to see some sort of angry face or something similar; Lydia's been presenting herself as apprehensive at best in the entire time they've known each other, so it wouldn't exactly surprise her.

Instead, the eyes that looked back at her were... softer.

"Lydia..." Siffre could be heard saying, as if ready to diffuse another situation.

"This..." Lydia said, "... won't hurt, will it?" The other two women blinked, and even spared glances at each other.

"Um... no?" Illia said, "I-it's invisibility, it's not supposed to hurt you...!" she said. She gave some small, feeble resistance tugs to free her arm, to no avail. Lydia on the other hand drew in a labored breath, and let out a sigh. She finally released the arm, leaving the mage to rub it with her other one, "Ow, did you have to grip so hard-?"

"Again, let's just do this, quickly, and get it over with," Lydia resigned. Illia took a breath herself to compose herself.

"Alright alright, just hold still..." She unfurled the scroll, revealing text facing her with a blank side facing Lydia, and with one hand placed it flat against the Nord's breastplate. She then held the pose of one hand pressed tight against the flattened parchment, while at the same time the underside of that pressed hand began to glow. Soon, the parchment itself began to glow a bright blueish-greenish color. Its edges slowly dissolved in towards the center, as if replicating the effect of it burning.

"Whoa, Lydia-!" Siffre suddenly said while she watched. Her voice send a few small vibrations out, but that was hardly noticed by anyone. For instead, all watched as the from the parchment's point of contact on Lydia, she suddenly began to fade, literally. She unconsciously took a few steps in different directions, looking down at her hands and her body below as they became more and more transparent.

"By the Gods..." Finally the fading stopped entirely, and Lydia could be seen no longer, "I-I can't even see me!"

"Lydia...?" Siffre cautiously reached out to where Lydia had been standing. The edge of her hand brushed against something, causing her to release a sigh of relief, "Oh, you're still there."

"Yes my thane, I'm still here... and that's my neck you're touching," Lydia's voice could be heard. In a flash, Siffre snatched her hand away, face starting to flush with embarrassment.

"It worked... it really worked...!" Ilia said to herself, "But- oh wow, my magicka... it feels drained...! To be able to cast invisibility outward rather than cast it to one's self..."

"Alright, you've made me invisible; can we get on with this?" Lydia's voice could be heard.

"Yes, of course, before the spell wears off. And hopefully my reserves will regenerate..." she quickly turned to Siffre, "Now you- er, Siffre, was it? Just follow where I go and remember: if you're told to do something, either by myself or by Sylvia, do it. Remember, you're playing the part of my thrall, so it'll have to be convincing to everyone, understood?"

"Of course, whatever's needed," Siffre nodded. Illia turned away to look at Lydia, or rather, where she was certain Lydia was still standing.

"As for you, um... what was-?"

"Lydia."

"Y-yes, of course! Stay close to us and wait for my signal to strike," Illia explained, "I think our best chance of success will be when she's distracted, maybe focused solely on Siffre here... But anyway, just follow my lead." The mage stepped away from them towards the door. Siffre started to move forward herself, but stopped short and turned her head in different directions.

"Lydia? Where-?" she asked.

"J-just go first, my thane," the housecarl's voice could be heard, "I'll still be here, and I'll protect you."

"Oh, alright..." Siffre said, moving forward. Ilia had her hand on the door's handle when Siffre moved next to her.

"Alright... let's go," she said, opening the door with a creak that filled the entire room with its sound.

* * *

-Yes, some creative liberties had to be taken here, regarding my 'retelling' of the Repentance side-quest. There weren't any hagravens in here as I felt they'd have already 'flown the coop' and wouldn't really stick around, but I digress. Stay tuned for the next part, as I hope to have it out sooner!-


	12. Chapter 12

-Here I am again, with that quick update I did promise before! This part will be the 'second' half to the whole Repentance side-quest. Also special thanks to a friend of mine, Usami Worry Haru Cookietine, for pre-reading this chapter and pointing out how it could've been much bigger and meatier than what I had originally! Thanks a lot! Anyway, enjoy!-

* * *

The path before them was in fact a stone section of the tower that seemed to stretch out and bury itself into the land next to it, the natural ground appearing to swallow it. The three women were bathed in the light of the afternoon sun. Or rather, two of them would be more accurate.

"This way," Illia instructed, carrying her voice a little louder than before. She led the way, with Siffre right behind her. The transparent Lydia watched them and carefully followed behind them. The steps they were taking were not in perfect sync with each other, so maybe there was a better chance that the sound of her own footsteps could be concealed.

Her own footsteps... Lydia looked down at her feet. This was quickly reaching the top of the most outlandish moments to have ever befallen her. Perhaps once or twice in her life did she ever have some rogue mage cast some fireball at her, and even a couple managed to graze her a bit. But never had she had any kind of spell like this cast upon her! Her own feet even, or, where she was certain they were walking with each step... By the Gods, it almost felt like an actual out-of-body experience for her! She was certain she was literally putting one foot in front of the other, but without visual confirmation...

She swallowed her anxiety and looked back up, refocused on where she was walking towards. With Illia leading the way, she walked directly behind Siffre, across the stone walkway to where the natural land began its upward slope. This way lead past a stone arch, revealing a larger patch of land before them, with a ruined stone wall surrounding an encircled perimeter. This layout of stone structure was actually very similar to the stone wall first seen on the lower ground, with some exceptions.

For one thing the land was not entirely empty. Carved out wooden poles with sharpened edges were littered all around in threatening displays. Some were arranged around a small, primitive tent, made of what appeared to be various animals' hides and skins sewn together. There were lit candles on each side of the tent's entrance, but the angle the tent was positioned at made it so that what was inside could not be seen.

Another thing that stood out was a single stone chair, positioned in the clearing of dirt away from the grass. It was not a common house chair, but rather an older looking throne, made of rock, stone, and decorated with architecture that suggested ancient history within it. Placed in front of this chair was a small pole, with a small, dark purple crystal object nestled on top of it.

Lastly, the three women were not alone as they entered this area. Someone was standing there, next to the pole and chair with her back turned to them. A woman with snow white hair, wearing a black robe identical to Illia's. One of her hands held something, a large stick of some sort. The closer they walked, the more menacing this 'stick' appeared to be. They could see edges of this stick- no, this staff were decorated with sharpened, serrated edges, possibly teeth, and singular feathers adorning the front end of it! She was looking up and outwards towards the forest's trees beyond the stone fort's wall, when the sound of footsteps drew her attention. She twitched her head once to the side, and slowly turned around to greet the newcomers.

"Mother," Illia stopped her walk and regarded the woman with a small nod of her head. She gently held a hand out to her side, signalling Siffre to stop her movements as well.

"Illia," the woman spoke, "You approach me with good news I trust?"

"Indeed Mother," the other mage spoke, indicating to Siffre, "I have brought you a sacrifice, as per your command." The older woman regarded her with a small, matronly smile.

"Excellent! You have done very well, my child!" she said, "The dawn of my ascension draws ever nearer! Please, why don't you summon your witch-sisters here to bear witness to it as well?"

"Oh- um... Well, the others at the moment..." Illia could be heard with a slight hesitation in her voice, "They were a little... they are probably still seeking to find sacrifices themselves! I-I was actually the first to find one and return here!" Siffre looked over at Illia herself. The mage was doing her best to keep a straight and composed face, but below she noticed a slight twitching of one of her hands at her side.

"Is that so?" Sylvia said with a tilted head.

"Yes!" Illia replied a little quickly, "In fact, I would propose we perform the ritual now? We can still have the others be surprised to see your ascension in the end, can't we?"

"Hmmm... I suppose you are right," Sylvia said. Illia could be heard struggling to silently release a sigh of relief, "My ascension is a momentous occasion, one I would rather not put on hold for longer than need be... Right then, have the thrall be seated." She moved herself to the side for the chair to be revealed in full view.

"Yes Mother," Illia said, then turned to Siffre and spoke with a rather commanding tone, "Thrall! Take a seat in that chair there!" Slowly yet cautiously, Siffre walked forward towards the chair, first setting her shield down at to the side of it. As she moved, Lydia slowly moved forward until she stood herself next to Illia. She lightly brushed a hand against her robe's sleeve. The action almost caused her to seize up in fear and surprise, yet she held herself steady as she quickly remembered. The invisible Nord slowly leaned her head inward as close as she could to the mage's.

"Which side...?" she whispered, a voice as soft as death.

"Hmmm... you left, I go right." she attempted to reply just as quietly. By now Siffre had fully seated herself in the chair, With Sylvia repositioning herself so that the pole with the crystal was directly between the two of them. As she had moved , Illia moved herself to her corresponding side, Lydia slowly doing the same. She slowly reached for the hilt of her sword, attempting to draw it quietly. The steel scraping against the leather of the sheath would no doubt not be silent, so she'd need to do this as carefully as she could. After all, her thane's life was very much on the line here!

She carefully took position that mirrored where the mage stood: her on Sylvia's left side, Illia on her right, and Siffre sitting in the throne about five feet before her. Between them stood the pole with the strange, dark purple crystal resting upon it. As Lydia concentrated on silently drawing her weapon, she found herself studying this strange gem between the two of them. Something about this gem seemed oddly familiar, but she could not for the life of her understand how...

"Let the Ritual begin...!" Sylvia announced, first stretching out her unarmed hand as if indicating to a larger, absent audience before her. She slipped her hand into a small pocket in her robe and retrieved a small, purple vial, "First, to ingest the essence of the hagraven..." With she quickly poured the vial's contents straight down her throat, swallowing soon after.

'Essence of the... what?' Lydia repeated this in her mind. As it began to run wild with possible implications, she suddenly refocused her efforts on restraining her gag reflex. Disgusting as it was, this was no time to lose her nerve, nor her lunch; she had to focus!

"Forgive me... mother..." She suddenly heard Illia's voice from the other end of Sylvia's form. Her eyes narrowed to alertness. That had to have been the signal! She could even catch the faint image of the mage lifting her hands up on the other side of the older woman! Was she planning to strike, planning to cast some fancy spells against her now? She had to be, which means she herself needed to hurry as well! She made haste in finally freeing her sword from the sheath, as quietly as she could. There was a slight scraping noise as she pulled it loose, but hopefully it wasn't too loud to hear.

As she looked up to refocus on Sylvia, she noticed the older woman was suddenly looking up and forward. She was looking in Siffre's general direction, but not at her; more like a little above her. What was she doing?

"Whatever for... daughter...?" she could be heard saying. Her head slowly tilted to face Illia's direction, yet her left hand suddenly jerked itself out and to its side. The very hand that still held that frightening looking staff, its tip now pointed in Lydia's direction. The Nord's eyes slowly widened, and she quickly prepared herself to move forward.

Her world before her was suddenly blinded by white! White, and absolute cold!

"Arrgh...!" Lydia grunted in pain. Her entire front of her body was being blasted by some kind of frost! Teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut, the cold was damn near making it impossible to move!

As this wave of frost pressed harder against her, she found she was forced back and down onto one knee. By the Gods, it was like being back on that mountain! Just an endless wave of blizzard practically drilling itself directly into her! If this didn't stop, she'd surely be floored by this! She mustered all her strength to her left arm to bring it forward; was her shield still in the grip of her hand? She would find out soon...

The force of the cold felt noticeably lessened by now. Lydia struggled to open her eyes, and she looked out before her. She could in fact see her shield, as well as parts of her own self. Shimmering speckles of light green danced all over her person, everywhere they danced revealing parts of her previously unseen. She could now see that her arm and the shield it held were blocking the majority of the frost wave, which she could also see was emerging from this blasted witch's staff! How had she known she was there before?! She was invisible, wasn't she? Even she couldn't see her own legs or body after that Illia had used that scroll on her!

She could make out the vague image of the mage in question on the other side of Sylvia, her down on both knees as opposed to her one knee. There was also the small crackles of rich blue... something, that raced across her form. What had happened just now?

"Lydia! I-Illia...!" she recognized Siffre's voice, vibrations rippling the air as she called out her name. There was just so much frost being leveled at her from over her shield, she could barely see! Her left was beginning to lose familiar feeling; she'd need to start moving soon...

"It would be wise if you did not stand up," Sylvia's voice could be heard saying. Lydia struggled to look over the edge of her shield. Was the witch talking to her? No, she was still looking forward, towards Siffre. Her thane's eyes were widened in complete alarm. Her hands were gripping the edges of the chair's armrests, as if poised to raise herself. But she held that position, and simply stared back into the damned mage who was still leveling this frost spell at her, "Frost to a warrior and lightning to a mage are quite inconvenient to each one, but at the moment I'm simply incapacitating them. Would you really want me to end them with lethal versions...?"

Damn, she wasn't wrong! Lydia may be a Nord and resistant to cold, but that didn't mean she went out of her way to experience long-term exposure! This freezing held a biting edge to it, even as it was striking primarily on her shield. That combined with how this frost was absolutely pushing against her, making it hard to move forward. But... she had to! She had to move, if she had her thane in a precarious position! She tried to grip her sword harder, while holding it far off to her side. While she concentrated her efforts, she could still vaguely hear the elder witch's voice, still carrying on.

"Now then, barring future interruptions..." Sylvia spoke, her eyes returning to their relaxed state as they had been upon first seeing her, "Be delighted, child, as your own life will be put to good use as the conduit for my grand union to nature itself!" Sylvia's other hand on the other side of her body was suddenly seen. She held it backwards, just past her head, and Lydia could see it begin to glow with a strange light of dark purple.

The housecarl's eyes widened in fear and alarm. Illia and her 'plan', whatever it was, having been completely forgotten in her mind. She had to move! She had to do something to stop... whatever was about to be done to her thane! But this blasted cold, blowing straight into her from that damned staff! Maybe if she could... inch her way close enough, she could swipe at it with her sword!

With as much strength as she could muster, she finally moved her rear-placed foot forward. Progress was slow, but at least there was progress. She could make it to her target, if she just concentrated.

"No... stop hurting them..." Siffre's voice could be heard. It's tone felt low and dangerous, with heavy vibrations accompanying it.

"You are in no position to make demands, foolish Nord," Sylvia taunted. Lydia spared a glance towards Siffre this time. She continued to sit in the throne, but her thane's eyes were leveled dangerously at the older mage.

"Yes... I am..." Siffre said. She drew a sharp breath in, then exhaled with-

**"Fus... RO-DAH!"** Absolute thunder erupted from her mouth. The sound was almost deafening to Lydia's ears. She could feel what felt like a massive force of wind rush past in front of her. And in that moment, that rush of cold that had been holding her at bay ceased altogether as well. Finally able to look up again unhindered, she looked closer at what had just happened.

Sylvia had indeed just been standing in front of her, facing her thane, but she was no longer there. She'd been literally blown away, screeching as she flew backwards practically like a rag-doll. Nothing stopped her from flying straight back towards the fort's stone wall directly behind her, and smacking it hard. A hard thud sound filled the air, along with Sylvia's grunt of pain as she hit the ground and fell to her front.

Lydia turned her head the other way. Siffre was shaking her head as if she was dazed, but other than that appeared to be alright for the most part. The Dragonborn quickly rose from the stone throne, and spared a glance towards her.

"Lydia! Are you alright...!" she said, rushing over to Lydia's side.

"Y-y-yes, m-my thane... I'm f-fine...!" Lydia chattered. It was then that the two heard grunting behind them. Turning their heads, Sylvia was struggling to pull herself to her feet, "Sh-she's getting back up! I can-!" She grunted as trying and failing to stand up resulted in her falling back to one knee.

"It's no good, just... wait here," Siffre patted her shoulder, "Try and warm yourself! I'll deal with her..."

"Quick- er, Siffre!" the Dragonborn heard Illia call to her, "That tent over there! It's where discarded possessions are kept from past sacrifices! I think I remember seeing weapons in it...!" She turned over to the small tent Illia pointed to. The one off to the side had no illuminating light from within, yet she could faintly make out some small item sticking out from around its corner from within. She quickly dashed over to its front entrance and peaked inside. There, right there before her laid up against the tent's inner wall, was a tall, sheathed great-sword. She reached out and grabbed its hilt to pull it hard, removing it from the sheath and leaving it to crumple to the ground. The Dragonborn spared a precious moment to stare at flat of the blade before rushing back out.

From down on the ground, Lydia watched her thane return to the fray, a steel great-sword held in both her hands. She quickly moved past her and advanced back upon where Sylvia was last seen.

"M-my thane! Wait-" Lydia tried and failed again to stand up. This frost was so numbing for her, but she needed to move!

"That power... an ancient magic unseen nor heard for several lifetimes! It exists...?" Sylvia uttered in deranged wonder, "Why, a soul of yours being used to as a catalyst to my ascension? I would positively rule this land!"

"You will not have it!" Siffre declared, vocal reservations abandoned, her voice carrying low and deep vibrations in front of her. This only seemed to fuel Sylvia's desire more as her hands glowed with light again. She thrust them forward, one after the other, and the air practically thundered as lightning bolts shot forth towards her. Siffre was quick to dodge to one side and then the other while maintaining her forward rush. She nearly cleared half the space between them when the older mage brought her two hands behind her and to the side. Bright purple light practically radiated from within her hands, her face also twisting in frustration.

"Come no closer-!" she cried out, thrusting both of her hands forward in Siffre's direction. Another thunderclap, far louder than the previous two, erupted throughout the air, while a much thicker lightning bolt was shot outwards. In a quick motion, the Dragonborn spun in place while maintaining her forward momentum. Her quick spin was able was well enough to narrowly avoid the bulk of the bolt, however a little bit of it still managed to graze her side armor. As a result, as she came out of her spin, and using her speed towards spinning her massive blade, the blade's tip also just barely grazed Sylvia as well.

Both women grunted in respective pain in that moment. It was clear that each one's attack was not nearly enough to severely damage the other. While Siffre's hand shot to her grazed side, Sylvia quickly ran around and behind her.

"That big sword makes you clumsy, does it not?" Sylvia taunted with a grin. Siffre quickly spun back around to watch Sylvia's left hand charge another lightning bolt within it, "As it of course leaves you wide- AAARGH-!"

Her words were suddenly cut short as she was forced to one knee. The reason being for this was that a small, ice spike was now embedded in the back of one of her legs, blood beginning to seep from the wound. Looking behind her, she saw Illia, still low and on the ground, and trying to prepare another spell in her own hand.

"Not this time, Sylvia...!" she said. There was a look of intense concentration on her face as she focused. With great effort, she finally shot forth a second spike of ice, much smaller than the first.

Unfortunately, Sylvia was prepared for this second attack. She held out her hand closest to the side Illia was on, and the familiarly transparent blue circular field appeared before her. The spike made contact with this field and was instantly dissipated upon contact, Sylvia's field hardly losing its shimmering brilliance.

"You'd be wise not to interfere, Illia!" Sylvia challenged, "Your own reserves are nearly depleted, are they not? You cannot hope to possibly-" As she spoke she turned her head around to refocus on Nord warrior before her, only for her eyes to widen in shock and surprise.

Siffre had in fact advanced all the way to where she was kneeling, and was moving to strike with her massive blade! Sylvia quickly abandoned her ward with one hand and tried to prepare new spells to stop her, but Siffre was already on her. The Dragonborn held her blade level to her waist and thrust forward into Sylvia's vulnerable midsection. Sharpened steel carved easily through both cloth, flesh and everything beneath with no trouble, emerging from the other end a blood-dripping tip.

Blood splattered from both the stab wounds as well as from Sylvia's own mouth. Her hands continued to shimmer with built up magicka energy, but focus was temporarily lost in that moment. The scream she uttered was both guttural and slightly drowned out by blood coming from her throat as well. She looked down and with unsteady hands tried to reach forth to grab at the blade that penetrated her body. But Siffre was quick to raise her boot up and kick her body off, freeing the blade and send her to her straight onto her back, unceremoniously.

From off to the side, Lydia had watched this entire scene play out- her thane quickly finding a great-sword to arm herself with, her little evasive maneuvering around the witch, and her managing to fatally wound her. And all the while, she still knelt in her own spot, freezing cold still preventing her from helping out, much less moving! How pathetic was this- a housecarl who couldn't even move to perform her most basic duty!? This crippling feeling within her simmered beneath the surface, even as she struggled to raise herself to her own feet. She suddenly heard the sound of footsteps, but when looking up she breathed a sigh of relief to find it was her thane that had rushed over to her side. The Dragonborn was slowly grabbing her arm to lift her up to her feet.

"Lydia... are you alright?" she asked. Her voice was much softer than before's volume of challenging Sylvia, and the difference was as clear as hot and cold.

"Um, y-yes, my thane..." Lydia tried and failed to stop her teeth from chattering. Siffre's next motion was to brush the flat of her hand against the front of Lydia's armor. This surprised the housecarl, until she realized that her armor was still covered with light frost. As she moved, Siffre made a quick motion with her left arm, and quickly winced at the motion. This was a reminder to Lydia of how she had taken a glancing blow of lightning to her body, "M-my thane! What of your own s-self? Are you-"

"I'll live," Siffre quietly assured her, "That lightning didn't hit me nearly enough to... hurt me, but this frost..." She shook her head, and finished wiping away the white frost from Lydia's armor. Lydia found herself shaking her head slightly; her thane takes injury on her own person, but her first thought is to make sure she was alright? Who really was the better protector here...?

It was then that a sudden loud snap filled the air. This wasn't the same kind of sound from before, from a body impacting hard against something more solid. It sounded more like a twig being broken in two. Both warriors quickly turned their heads towards the same direction.

They could see Illia, standing a good distance away, with Sylvia's staff in hand. Or rather, it was in both hands, as she appeared to have broken the weapon in half over her knee. She kept her back facing the two Nord women as she carelessly threw the useless weapon pieces to the side and stalked over to where the downed mage lay.

Sylvia groaned in pain as she struggled to move in any capacity, but only for a few inches. A pool of blood could be seen growing from beneath her body, as well as a small trail leading back to where she was initially stabbed. As she drew nearer Illia dropped down to one knee next to the older witch's prone form.

"Gah! Illia..." Sylvia croaked out, "So, you finally... have nerve to usurp me?"

"No, I'm ending this, Mother... it's time for this to end," Illia simply replied. She reached one hand downward towards Sylvia's waist. Her fingers gripped her desired target: a simple dagger. Sylvia's hands feebly tried to reach up to stop her, but she couldn't focus them enough to actually stop her.

"Bah, so weak... with untouched potential..." Sylvia spoke. She craned her neck at an angle as to look at the two women still behind her, specifically Siffre, "But her... she possesses a power; ancient and latent with magicka like never seen before..." Her head turned back towards her 'daughter', who was now holding the dagger in between both of her fists, "You've witnessed it for yourself, have you not...? It'd be foolish to leave it... unclaimed..." Eyes narrowed up at Illia and a wicked smile graced her lips, "Do it.. claim it for yourself-"

"Goodbye, Sylvia..." With barely pursed lips that concealed gritted teeth, Illia raised the dagger level to her head and plunged it down, straight into the elder witch's throat. Sylvia's eyes practically bugged out as blood erupted from her neck as well as her mouth. She frantically grabbed at the dagger, at Illia's hands, anything, in a futile attempt to help herself, but Illia held fast. She kept her hands and the dagger held firmly in place, all the while her eyes were clenched shut. She held that position for a solid handful of seconds, Sylvia's thrashing growing slower and slower. Finally, with a last gargle emerging from her mouth, her arms slumped to the ground. She no longer moved any muscle at all, and her eyes continued to stare straight up into the dusk sky.

Sensing the lack of any more movement, Illia slowly opened her eyes. She pushed herself to her feet and hastily wiped the blood from her hands on her robe again. Her breathing was heavy at first as she stepped away from the body, each breath struggling to be less and less labored. She shook her head and looked back up at the two Nord women, now both standing on their feet as well.

"It's... it's over now... it really is..." she spoke.

"Are you alright...?" Siffre asked.

"I... I don't know... I'm not sure what I feel right now..." Illia said, looking down at the ground, "I should be happy, but... I can't help but feel... sad. Terrible even..." She shook her head again and looked back up at the two women, "Still, it's over now. I guess all that's left is-"

Illia's next motions were to take a few steps forward in their directions, hands slightly hanging out and forward, gaze focused straight at Siffre. It was all this that caused something within Lydia to snap to attention yet again. Her body still felt chilled to the bone, yet she still stepped forward to hold her sword out, tip pointing threateningly at Illia. Again, the mage stepped backward a step in surprise.

"Not... another step..." Lydia uttered low and dangerously.

"Whoa whoa! Please, calm down!" Illia protested with her hands held up.

"Lydia? What are you doing-?" Siffre said.

"You j-just stay back, well away from us!" Lydia pressed, ignoring all else and focusing solely on Illia.

"What is wrong now?!" Illia protested, "Sylvia is dead! We have killed her! Now why are you still so bent on thinking that I'm going to kill you?!"

"Are you s-serious-?!" Lydia felt her teeth chatter in between her speech. To maintain her threatening image, she'd need to get a better hold of herself, "How about the fact that even with you casting that weird spell on me, that woman still somehow knew I was there! I was nearly blasted and frozen by her, while what had you been-?!"

"Lydia, that's not true!" Siffre quickly cut in, voice heavy with vibrations, "Illia was being shocked by lighting! Didn't you see it?!"

"That's right! I was!" Illia chimed in, slowly lowering her hands, "About her seeing you, I don't know how! We couldn't see you when I cast it upon you! And even if I had a mind to try anything, that lightning weakened my magicka reserves! I barely had enough for those ice spikes just now; I couldn't do anything to you even if I wanted to!"

"How would we know that? How could we possibly trust you on that, on anything?!" Lydia pressed, "In fact, your whole plan of attacking that witch there was faulted from the start! Things could have gone horribly for us-!"

"But they didn't! You've aided in killing her, isn't that what matters?!" Lydia's knuckle felt whitened as she gripped her sword's hilt. The blade drooped ever so slightly, as she herself actually felt herself considering. Had she tried to kill them herself? Had she made any move against them in the time they'd known each other. No... but...

"We've been put in mortal peril since the first instance we encountered you," Lydia spoke, "So really, what good reason would there be to not slay you right here, right now, and end it?!"

"Lydia! Stop this, now!" Lydia could both hear Siffre behind her and feel her roughly shake her shoulders.

"And I implore you, can't you just let me leave, like I originally wanted to do?! Is it..." Illia's pleas became more frantic and desperate, and in the middle of them her eyes snapped over to the side, the ramshackle tent, "There! In that tent there, that's really where they kept all the discarded possessions of past sacrifices! You can have anything that's in there- just please, let me leave here...!"

"Huh...?" Her eyes still fixated on Illia's form, Lydia felt Siffre's hand leave her shoulder. Single steps to the side told her that she was moving over to investigate the tent herself, "Lydia, she's right! There's... there are other things in here...!" What, there was? She glanced an eye in Siffre's direction; the Dragonborn's face looking back at her was an earnest one. So, was Illia here looking to bribe them off or something? She looked back over to Illia. Her teeth still gritted, but her eyes no longer feeling hardened like before. That was all she wanted to do, was leave here? But after everything that had happened to them, to 'her' even, she'd be allowed to go free from it?

"Lydia... please..." Siffre's softer voice could be heard. Though she stood next to her, the voice might as well have been from miles away, echoing across a vast, empty void...

The sword blade drooped, and fell down to her side. Illia let out a soundless sigh of relief.

"Go on then... leave..." Lydia spoke in a low tone, "Before I change my mind..." There was a moment of hesitation from the mage, combined with quick looks between the two women. Finally, as if snapping back to her senses, she peeled away towards the fort's stone wall, where erosion had produced a thin-sized crack from the bottom. The mage quickly slipped through this crack, and just like that was gone from sight.

With her gone, Lydia slowly turned to look at her thane.

"Th-thank you, Lydia..." Siffre spoke, She then noticed her armor, as well as the heavy patches of frost that still could be seen on her front as well as shield, "Um, are you alright...? I saw that frost hit you..." Siffre had moved a hand up scrape away some leftover frost with her hand. This action seemed to remind Lydia of it as well, and the fact that her armor was ice cold by now.

"I-I'm fine... Siffre, really..." she said, nudging her hand away to dust her own self off. Thankfully the frost that was on her felt little more than snow, the kind that came from some mage's staff, not snow that born of Skyrim's own white blanket.

"Oh, alright... good..." Siffre took Lydia's earlier meaning and pulled her hand back. She glanced back over to the tent, while hefting her great-sword in front of her for emphasis, "Well, come on... I think I like this sword, so let me grab the sheath at least..." Lydia heard her say, even as she nearly finished dusting herself off. But she had no intention of moving, not yet. Not before something that was on her mind was addressed...

"My thane... Siffre...?" she spoke. The Dragonborn stopped moving and turned around, "I want to know... why did we- 'you', do that...?"

"Huh? Do what...?" a confused Dragonborn questioned with narrowed eyes and a tilted head.

"Just now, with all that..." Lydia said, "Why did we just put ourselves through all of that?"

"Lydia..." Siffre started, then sighed, "I told you... it was something I felt... I needed to do. She wanted to be-"

"Yes, you've mentioned this before, and it still doesn't make sense," Lydia challenged, then pointed back in the direction to where Illia had run off, "That woman was a witch, a killer, vagabond, a bandit! Living out here with a bunch of others like her- she even admitted that they did bad things here!" Siffre winced gradually at each listing of words Lydia used to describe Illia, "We could have easily been her next victims, being brought to that older witch like that- did you forget what was nearly done to me?!" All the while Lydia ranted, Siffre's own eyes began to narrow slowly.

"Lydia... that's a very... very judgmental way of seeing things..." Siffre's speaking tone was at normal volume, but the vibrations were felt... a little harder somehow, "You heard Illia say many times that she wasn't trying to kill us... And I did tell you that her mother attacked her as well...? I am sorry... sorry that happened to you, but... It couldn't have been her fault!"

"It had to have been! Otherwise how did the other one know I was there?!" Lydia then shook her head, scoffing, "Why, why are you so..." In her mind, Lydia suddenly was reminded of a previous discussion the two of them had, "My thane; why is it that you would stick your neck out for people like them? I asked you earlier and never got an answer... Well now is the time for one." The Dragonborn returned her gaze; her eyes changing from narrowed to widening in slight surprise. For a moment she hesitated, and Lydia thought she would try and avoid this topic again. But Siffre did speak up.

"Lydia... I don't know if this is... something you should hear..."

"You can be sure," Lydia said, "I very much want to know the reason, from you, right now, whatever it may well be!" Siffre's mouth could be seen quivering, twisting as if she was meaning to quickly reply. As her hard stare with her eyes drooped more, that overall look on her face turned to one of uncertainty. Lydia watched her carefully, waiting in tense anticipation. Finally, her arms drooped in front of her, the great-sword falling to the level of her legs as well.

"You... you really want to know why...?" her volume was that of speaking, but her usual stuttering that came with when she spoke softer was still present, "Why I'm not so quick to... to condemn a once-criminal seeking... something else...?"

"Yes, I would like to know," Lydia pressed. Why was she delaying this so much...?

"Have you wondered why... I haven't told much about my past...?" Siffre spoke, "It's because... I took care to not let anyone know... at all." Lydia's gazed turned to a confused one.

"Know of what?" Siffre's eyes met hers.

"The truth is... that I'm no different... from people like her," Siffre looked up, "I too... was a bandit."

* * *

-Yet another cliff-hanger?! I seem to do those a lot, don't I? Anyway like I said, I'd originally had this chapter as what I could only now describe as 'half-baked'. Thanks again for Usami Worry Haru Cookietine for reading it over first and pointing out the flaw in my original design! Check out his fanfic page as well for more good stuff!

I'm just as excited as ever to get on with future plans for this story, especially with this latest discovery made at the end here! For now read, review, let me know what you all thought, and I'll see you next chapter's release; bye bye!-


	13. Chapter 13

-Here I am again, though not too much I can think to say at the moment other than read and enjoy!-

* * *

Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Not instantaneously, but gradually slow to a crawl, then stop. The chirping of evening insects couldn't even be heard anymore. Everything was at a standstill in that moment. Lydia stood there, eyes widened in shock, and... other feelings.

"What... did you say...?" she managed. There was no way she heard that correctly. So many things she'd experienced so recently to challenge her beliefs, but this certainly could not be one of them!

"I said... I was a bandit..." Siffre said, quietly. Her thane did not return her look with an equal one of her own. Instead, her eyes grew more downcast, saddened even, from this revelation. Her left hand released its hold on the great-sword, letting the tip drop and be buried slightly into the dirt ground, "I never... I never wanted anyone to know... You're the only one who does..." Lydia was vaguely aware that her left hand was gripping her shield's handle a little tightly.

"You... you're really saying you were a bandit...?" she spoke low, "Someone who preys on the innocent for little more than personal gain...?"

"Lydia-" Siffre started, but stopped herself short, "I... I'd be willing to explain... if you'd hear-" The sound of metal clanking to the ground. In a single rush of motion, Lydia had launched her own open hands forward to grip the metallic edges of Siffre's steel armored breastplate. In keeping her momentum, she moved her straight back until her back was shoved straight back up against the cloth walls of the nearby tent. Though not through the cloth, as a hard, supporting pillar of wood could be felt against her back. On instinct, her hands rushed up to lightly grip the harder gripping hands of her housecarl. As for Lydia herself, Siffre was forced to looked directly at her face, her eyes positively glowing with anger.

"Just what kind of sick, sick joke do the Gods themselves think they are playing...?!" she spoke, her tone a little bit louder and poignant than before, but still carrying its dangerous edge, "My whole life I have lived one of decency, honor, and well-being, in service to those of equal moral standing! Now not only am I not to be that for my Jarl, but to someone who's a criminal!?"

"Lydia! Please stop-!" Siffre protested, vibrations from her voice feeling heavier at such close range. Her hands by now were gripping Lydia's harder. But they weren't trying to force her hands off of her, either that or Lydia was maintaining her tight grip on Siffre's armor even still.

"Just how many people have YOU killed, my 'thane'? How many innocents-"

"Lydia stop! I don't want to f-**FUS**-!" A smaller scale of rushing air burst forward, not nearly as powerful as the Thu'um uttered earlier today. But for both Lydia and Siffre, this might as well have been the most deafening a Shout that had ever been uttered, close-range notwithstanding.

Lydia broke her hands away from her death-grip on Siffre's armor as she jumped back. She was only lightly staggered from just how close the sound eruption happened so closely before her, her ears heavily ringing. Did... did that just happen? Did she just endure the legendary Thu'um itself, at such close range? Were she not worked up from anger just now, she might have been impressed with herself, as well as shaken with a little fear...

Speaking of fear, before her Siffre's hands were clamped tightly over her mouth, her eyes widened in absolute terror. They were staring off in Lydia's general direction, but not directly 'at' her. She held that staring direction for a solid handful of minutes, to the point where it felt like she was avoiding looking directly at her on purpose. She could barely hear the sound of her breathing; she was taking dreadfully shallow breaths from underneath her trembling hands.

"Did... was that..." Lydia spoke. The sound of her own voice combined with with the ringing was all she could hear at the moment. And yet, from the smallest crack in between Siffre's fingers, she could just barely see her lips twitching as if she'd spoken something just now. She didn't feel any vibrations at all; must have been something softly spoken, "W-what?"

"I... I am so sorry..." she could hear her speak louder. The ringing in her ears persisted, but thankfully seemed to be lessening by the minute, "I didn't... I don't even know how that... I wasn't trying to-" Her rambling trailed off as she looked back at Lydia, "Did I... hurt you?"

The fear that still gripped her face was still present. It also appeared... sincere. How her hands were trembling above her mouth, her eyes still not looking directly at her, even her feet were shifting from place to place every so often. These were traits that a truly remorseful person would show. And that was the most baffling part of all this...

Bandits and killers don't show remorse. Not that Lydia's seen anyway...

"I... believe you," Lydia spoke. The ringing in her ears could still be felt, and she unintentionally had her voice raised a little higher than what was intended. This was noted by the light wince seen on Siffre's face in response. Thus she spoke again, purposefully lowering her tone, "I believe that... you weren't trying to hurt me."

"Th-thank you..." Siffre said, "I don't know how that happened! It's like it just... came out! Like a hiccup or something..." A hiccup? What a strange thing compare the almighty Thu'um of the ages to!

"Still, you'd Shouted right in front of me," Lydia said, rubbing one of her ears, "That... blast was so powerful..."

"But not something I meant... at all. I was trying to say that... I didn't want to 'fight' you, but somehow I'd said... that word...?" Siffre said, then gave a hefty sigh, "This Voice... Sometimes life felt easier... when I couldn't talk."

"You couldn't talk before... I assume before you came to Skyrim?" Lydia asked. Siffre looked at her for a moment, yet still nodded in response, "I, ah... I still have to know... what was this life you had before... before I first saw you? You said you came from Cyrodiil?"

"I... I'm from there, yes..." Siffre said with a sigh, "I was... part of a group, of six others..."

"Six other bandits?" Siffre shot her a look, but still sighed.

"Yes... a group with two Nords, the rest Imperials," Siffre said, "I told you that I... I lived outside of Bruma? Well... that's not completely wrong... it's where we operated out of..." Siffre fidgeted with one of her gloves for a second before continuing, "We did raid travelers for... mostly foods; valuables at times... Then we'd quickly move to a new location... helped avoid being tracked..."

"And yet, something did happen...?" Siffre nodded.

"The last raid attempt... it had an armed patrol," Siffre's eyes relaxed slightly as they looked outward, staring into the horizon of the night sky, "Too many to fight off, and... we were massacred. I was lucky to escape, but they knew who I was by face; I was hunted... I couldn't remain in hiding there anymore, and everyone else was killed... So I ran..." She looked down, "I ran deeper into the Jerrall Mountains to try and lose them... and at some point I realized I'd crossed over into Skyrim. I thought my luck had turned... until I was captured... along with those Stormcloaks. Everything I had on me was taken... as they took us all to... to... Helgen..." Siffre hesitated when mentioning that place.

"Helgen..." Lydia repeated.

"Yes..." Siffre replied, shaking her head just as quickly, "I managed to escape there... somehow... You know, it's a huge miracle that I somehow even did... Sometimes I wonder if... if I even should have; was this the Gods' cruel way of punishing me for the life I'd led...?"

"And yet, you still survived, and escaped," Lydia said, earning a nod from her thane.

"I did, but... I had nothing," she said, "Everything taken from me- destroyed. I had no weapons, no armor, no money, nothing... I was alone, in a different province..."

"But when I first met you, you had indeed found something," Lydia clarified, "You had armor, a sword and shield, and some kind of 'stone'...?"

"Oh, that's right..." Siffre said, as if reminded of something she had forgotten, "I had made my way upwards, hoping to find something, anything... until I stumbled into an old ruin- Bleak Falls Barrow..." Siffre gritted her teeth as she recounted, "Unbelievable... Seems I had a habit of escaping certain death from one place, only to immediately find it again in another..." Lydia's head tilted as she raised an eyebrow.

"I'd heard of that place, it's an old Nordic Ruin..." she said, "You went 'inside' it? They're usually filled with traps, and-"

"I didn't have much choice," Siffre cut in, "I had to take shelter somewhere, and... I was lucky some bandits were already there, but had long been dead... It was from them I'd gotten that old armor, sword, shield... I had found all those things, as well as that stone somehow... yet none had money... It's why I was hoping to... to sell the stone to someone for a quick passage to somewhere... anywhere far away really... And after I got out of that damned place, Whiterun was the first place I could see..."

Lydia had listened to this tale being recounted to her. Her once initial anger she'd felt at the beginning had now simmered down considerably. Siffre here had been part of a bandit group, perhaps highwaymen, which probably claimed who knows how many lives. Just the simple fact that they'd harassed travelers, essentially robbing them of their own gains...

And despite that, in the entire time that she had come to know her... not one instance about her demonstrated ill intent towards anyone around her. Quite the opposite; she actually felt like she felt the need to.. involve herself, in ways that were actually beneficial to others. That's what the truly baffling part about all this was! This simply didn't make sense... and she was determined to make sense of this.

"So... answer me this then," she said, "You came to Whiterun to sell off that stone for money for passage out of Skyrim, right?" Siffre nodded, "And, that was around the same time that dragon attacked the western watchtower... So then, why the change in motive? It seems to me like that would've been perfect cover for you to slip away, unnoticed."

"Oh, um..." Siffre said. This must have been an important question, as she was in deep thought as she hesitated, "Well... That was actually... I'd intended to do just that..." Lydia narrowed her eyes, and Siffre quickly picked up on that by wincing lightly, "When Jarl Balgruuf said I had to fight the dragon, I... I was terrified! 'I had more experience'? Just because I was there that didn't mean-" Her voice gradually began to raise, along with the vibrations as she quickly shook her head, "And, you're right... it would've been perfect cover, while the dragon had been focused on... well, not me, and I could slip away..." Siffre paused to take a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a smooth exhale, while sparing a glance at Lydia. The housecarl continued to listen intently. Things were starting to come together, if little by little...

"However... when we were out there, and that dragon had appeared... something happened, or changed? I'm not sure," Siffre said, "It was around when... when the dragon fell down, and landed right before you... I saw you attack it, but... it bit your sword to pieces, and nearly killed you... I... It's hard to explain, but it's like my body just... moved on its own! I saw you in danger and about to be killed, and... I had to rush in to stop it!" Lydia drew in breath sharply as a gasp.

"To... save me?" she asked, lightly flushing, "L-like I'm some sort of damsel, or civilian in danger? But why? I was the same one that had nearly punched you the first time I'd talked to you! Why would you have felt the need to save me-?"

"Again, I don't know!" Siffre pressed, light vibrations being carried on the wind, "I wondered the same thing myself- why...? But it was after that moment, as well as killing that dragon... Everything changed for me. I felt... a new purpose in life; like something about me I never even knew was there, but had to know more about..." Her gaze drifted down as she placed a hand to her chest, "My whole life... I've never been able to speak... It was like some kind of barrier, but... a barrier in my mind, stopping me... But now, ever since I discovered this Voice... I don't feel any barriers anymore... like they're... broken!" Her hand lowered from her chest, and she looked back at Lydia, "But now... now you see why someone like me... is willing to at least hear out once-criminals who seek... better lives for themselves...?"

Lydia let out a soft exhale of breath. Having listened to this entire tale laid out before her, Siffre essentially bearing her soul to her, it was a lot to take in and process. A part of her still could not feel some sort of... challenge to her personal views. Her own life she had lived by a certain code, one that emphasized that Lords and civilians of a city were innocent, and bandits of all kinds that lived outside of civilization were of evil varieties. As housecarl, and even before that a guardswoman of Whiterun, she had always upheld that sense of duty as a part of her very life: punish the wicked, and protect the innocent. It was a life that ranged from tedium to life-threatening danger depending on circumstances, but at the end of the day, Lydia was more than happy with how things appeared to be for her. There was a sense of... stability, in how things were for her.

And one woman managed to single-handedly challenge her views.

And the fact that she wasn't proficient with general speech wasn't even that much of an issue anymore. She could remember feeling slightly offended herself by it at first during their initial meeting. But now, that seemed minor and trivial compared to what she now knew. Siffre, her thane, her charge, the Dragonborn of song and legend itself... had a criminal past! A common highwayman bandit, holding up innocent travelers for their own valuables, under threat of them losing their lives?! This was the sort of people whom she felt pride in for riding her hold of! So what exactly was it, if anything, that made her different from them...?

She looked her thane in the eyes again. There were very small, barely noticeable bags underneath them. Even from the sleep she knew she had gotten recently, they must not be easy to get rid of. But like before, those same eyes still held that same amount of... regret, within them. Was it regret? Or was it perhaps a sense of not feeling very prideful for one's self? In the past, from the bandits she had been dispatched to deal with, she remembered looking into their eyes, and identifying different feelings just from the eyes alone. They were desperate, anger-filled, spiteful, but more often then not- prideful. They displayed great pride in what they were, and probably displayed that same amount when carrying out their selfish task of terrorizing unsuspecting travelers. That same level of pride she'd come to recognize in others... she could not see in Siffre's eyes.

That would lead to something very important to ask...

"You know... I'd grown up all my life serving Whiterun and its hold, whether at first during my time as a guardswoman, to later on as a housecarl..." she spoke softly, almost deliberately matching the same tone that Siffre would tend to use, "I had lived not only as a loyal servant of Jarl Balgruuf, but also as a guardian to his people. They were precious in his eyes, they still are, and serve as symbols of purity, innocence, and the general good of people all around..." She met Siffre's eyes again, "A great servant of the people. I suppose in many ways... you being a Dragonborn isn't that much different, is it?"

"Hm? What do you mean...?"

"You were told it was your 'destiny' or something, not simply to just slay these dragons, but protect people from them?" Siffre gently nodded, "Then my point exactly..." She paused for a second, mostly to allow her eyes to narrow at her, "Which is why I have to know now... Do you regret the things you did as a bandit?" Siffre's head gave a tiny recoil to the question, and her mouth cracked open, but she hesitated. Or rather, she deliberately paused as she thought a response over in her head.

"I... I never made a point to... to kill, needlessly..." Siffre said, "Most in my group did, but not me... I never wanted to."

"But I assume your group still took lives? Innocent lives?" Lydia pressed.

"I-I can tell what you're... getting at, and..." Siffre sighed, "Members of my group did take lives, and... I stood idly by and allowed it to happen... That is what I do regret..." She glanced back up at Lydia, "But those same people I was once a part of? Dead... So... would it have been better if I had as well? Is that what you're getting at?" This time was Lydia's turn to pull her head back slightly in mild surprise. A part of her was hoping that Siffre would say something to confirm her preconception of repentant, but that last part caught her off-guard.

"Well, no, I wouldn't say that exactly..." Lydia said. She gently reached her arm forward towards Siffre. Her thane saw this gesture and prepared to recoil, but quickly calmed herself upon realizing that a hand was simply being placed on her shoulder, and nothing more, "I guess what I would say is... This whole 'destiny' thing of you being Dragonborn? It's a complete second chance for you... Live this new life protecting others instead of hurting them, if you're really serious about turning your own life around..." The two women were closer together now, and Siffre could see Lydia's face in clearer detail. Gone were those anger filled eyes she'd first seen when she'd grabbed her the first time. Replacing them were reassuring eyes, as well as a gentle smile. It was the same face of a friend; the same face Lydia had when the two of them had shook hands in the Bannered Mare. She found herself nodding at the friendly sight.

"Thank you, Lydia... for understanding," she said, "But... while this does apply to me... what about when it comes to others? The whole thing involving people like Illia...?" Lydia took her hand away, and her friendly smile dropped a little as she moved a few steps away again.

"That... well..." she said, "You have to understand, your safety is my top priority. And I guess by extension- 'our' safety..." She paused, looking away as she scratched the back of her head, "But... I suppose what you told me just now... it does add some... 'unique' perspective to those sorts of dilemmas..."

"So then, you would understand? If this were to happen again with someone else..?" Siffre asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'd... be willing to... listen to your judgement first, if that's alright?" the housecarl asked. Siffre nodded again, returning a smile of her own.

"Thank you, Lydia... that's good to hear..." she said. Casually she looked up at the sky, as if noticing it for the first time in a while, "Oh, night time...? Have we been out here for so long...?" In response, Lydia looked around as well. Sure enough, night had indeed fallen. The world around them was bathed in the gentle, orange-yellow glow of the still burning candles. She was also acutely aware of the sound of crickets chirping again in the air... as well as something buzzing? She looked over to the ground a few feet away from them, and was instantly reminded of the bloodied corpse of Sylvia. It lay on the ground, a massive pool of blood forming around it, with flies beginning to move in.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust, "Ugh, I would say we should leave this place about now, Siffre..." The Dragonborn was reminded of the body as well, and her face frowned in disgust as well.

"I agree... but first..." a gesturing hand directed their attention to the 'spoils tent', "Let's check in the tent; see what else was in there..." Lydia moved with haste, if only to move further away from the body she was reminded of. She and Siffre moved to the front of the tent and looked at what lay inside. Aside from the crumpled, empty scabbard that held the great-sword in Siffre's hands, various other articles of apparel could be seen, such as boots, tunics, trousers, foot-wraps. Siffre reached down for the scabbard itself and picked it up. The strap that wrapped around the front of the body looked sturdy still, as did the main sheathe. It appeared to have seen some action, yet not enough for it to have worn down terribly. Wiping off the last bit of blood from the long blade, Siffre slid it into the tight leather, then placed it around her body so that it now hung off of her back. Lydia couldn't help but notice the slight smile that suddenly appeared upon beholding this new blade upon her back.

"I guess you were right- great-swords must be your specialty," she said, recalling an earlier conversation with her. Siffre nodded, then looked back to the tent's pile of goods. There was nothing left in here except for clothing. Most of it was for men, and what little women's apparel there was seemed to be torn too much...

"Huh...?" Something caught Siffre's eye. She reached into the pile of drab, mismatched colored clothing to pull out something rather gray, as well as metallic. Before the two of them she held a sturdy steel mace. It was in perfect condition, having never seen combat a day in its life.

"A mace?" Lydia said, "I guess it's not so strange a thing to find here..." She held a hand out towards it, "Here, let me carry it."

"Huh? Are you sure...?" Siffre asked with a tilted head and raised eyebrow.

"It's no burden, my thane. I'm fine with carrying it..."

"Um, alright..." Siffre handed the mace to her housecarl, "But, why take that? And... what of all of this...?"

"Most of these clothes look too tattered and ripped anyway..." Lydia leaned in to inspect the apparel pile closer, "But this mace, it's brand new; we could fetch a fair price for it at a trader, or even a smithy."

"Oh yeah... I guess that's true..." Siffre agreed. She spared a few glances all around at their position, "Maybe we should also leave here...?"

"Yes, I very much agree; I'd rather not rest in a place that witches lived in, living or not..." Lydia followed Siffre as she stepped out and away from the tent, "But the question is, where are we now?"

"These walls around us... they're broken down; we could just leave through them..." Siffre said as she moved towards one of the broken sections.

"But we still don't know where we are!" Lydia reminded as she followed after her, "What were we even doing before this little detour...?" With Siffre going first, the two women squeezed their way past a sizable hole in the stone wall, emerging from the outside. On the other side was no longer the glow from nearby candles. Instead the world before them was only bathed in the glow of white light of the moon from above. With this light, they could see the natural landscape they now stood before.

Illia was correct, the landmass they stood upon rose a great distance above the world below them. From where they stood, a simple yet careful downward walk would take them back to where the road was.

"There, down there...!" Siffre pointed out. In the night, another glow of light could be seen a considerable distance away. There was a large body of water, the moons' reflection helping in spotting it easier, with another stone wall encircling a settlement right next to it.

"Is that... That's Riften, it has to be!" Lydia quickly realized.

"You're sure?"

"What else could it be?" Lydia said, "I once heard that the Rift's capital city lay next to some water- Lake Honnrich I think it was?"

"Well then, let's get down there..." Siffre said.

"We'll have to walk down this steep hillside to get to that road below, be careful my thane..." Lydia said, walking forward and beginning her careful descent down the side. Siffre followed her lead and her example down the hillside after her, the road below their new destination which would lead them to Riften.

* * *

Illia dodged and weaved between trees of the forest, frantic and panicked breathing escaping her mouth as she ran. She didn't even bother to look back behind her; escaping from that tower was one thing, but that whole ordeal with that Lydia woman only made things unnecessarily complicated. It didn't matter where she was running towards, as long as she was putting as much distance between herself and that tower. At night when there was none of the sun's light to show off the warm colors of the trees, they seemed to glow in different shades of blue instead. There may have been an upper canopy of leaves to shield against most of the moonlight above, but there was still enough for her to see where she was going. Deeper into the forest, where no sort of stone could be seen anywhere.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of running, she forced herself to stop to catch her breath. She held a hand against a nearby tree and bent forward, her other hand pressed against her chest as she breathed hard. Just a quick moment, she really needed to catch her breath...

How long had she been running? Five minutes? Maybe longer? When her breathing slowed down a bit, she finally looked back and over her shoulder. All that could be seen was the dark, thick of the forest she had ran into. Darklight Tower was no where in sight, not even as a silhouette against the night sky.

"Huff... I think... I'm clear now..." she said to herself. She pulled herself upright and her hand away from the tree, "Now... where am I...?" For the first time since her 'escape', she was able to take the time to truly study where she was. The forest she stood in was dark, and the air had light mist to it. Natural light from the moons above was barely able to shine through the trees' leaves that sheltered the world below. Illia listened in closer, but the most sounds she could hear were the chirping of insects and distant hoots from owls.

She shivered, both from unease as well as a chill in the air she hadn't noticed before. She couldn't stay here; she had to find warmth or shelter somewhere! But... where could she go? All around her were nothing but trees, bathed in creepy darkness. And this cold that was starting to creep in... The Tower certainly kept her warm from cold-

"No, no-no-no...!" Illia quickly shook her head from such thoughts, "I am NOT going back there...!" After all the effort she'd gone through to get away from there, going back was not an option. That was also including the fact that Lydia woman could still be there. Even after all that, how honest she'd been, and her still not believing her? No way she could stand being near her again. She held her head facing forward, finding lost resolve. The only way she could proceed was forward; which meant finding someplace to take shelter...

Looking around before her, she gasped lightly as she spotted something: a set of large rocks jutting out of the ground. One of them was curved inward so that a large, opened base could be seen; possibly large enough to fit a person? But... what if it had something in it already, like insects, or...

"Grrr, I should be fine... I find something in there I'll just freeze it..." she said to herself, frustration in her voice. She made her way over to the space, picking up the pace as she drew closer to it. There was just enough moonlight to peer inside; nothing immediately came to view, and nothing could be heard either. This should've been reassuring, but Illia could only feel anxiety building up instead. She cautiously raised a hand up, charged with ice into a spike, and quickly shot it forward and inside. Almost immediately, the ice could be heard shattering against something. It didn't sound like anything soft, but from the way it shattered, more like against something hard. The inner walls of this space? That did make things a little better; perhaps there was nothing in there after all.

Slowly, she ducked down and pulled herself into the space, letting the darkness embrace her as well. She sat and huddled herself against the back of the back wall, wrapping her arms around her folded in legs. It barely was good enough to ward off the chill, but it was enough. As she sat in the dark, her mind wandered over future possibilities. Now that she was finally free, where was she to go? Where could she go? One of the cities? Riften was not too far from where the tower was, with a distant view of it from above the risen landmass. There could be better places to sleep there, or even...

No, no that couldn't work. She was a witch for Julianos' sake! If that alone didn't give her away, the obvious black robes associated with necromancy she was still wearing certainly would. She'd be lucky if the guards didn't cut her down at first glance. It was still a miracle she was still alive after her encounter with those two-

_**GROWLLLL-!**_

She looked down at herself with a frown; perfect, just perfect. When was the last time she had eaten something? This morning? Just that bit of bread and cheese, but nothing else today. This would have to be remedied somehow, and quick.

"My pouch, maybe there's something in..." she said to herself which reaching her left hand into her side satchel. Her fingers fished around until she pulled forth the first thing from within. It felt small and... spindly. Was it food? No, it was that sample of Red Mountain Flower she'd found this morning. She remembered she picked this one due to how fat it appeared to have grown. At the time it's properties could've yielded Vedina a more potent effect for potions, but... as something edible?

"Oh curse it...!" Illia said with a small groan. Her stomach beginning to hurt would be calling this decision for her. She broke pieces of the petals from the base plant, crushed them in between her fingers, and slipped them in her mouth. A horrid, bitter taste immediately assaulted her senses and she almost spit it out, but she held back her disgust to allow herself to chew. She was hungry, but satisfying it would have to come before actual taste in this matter. She finally swallowed the food substitute, where she could feel it meet her stomach from within.

"Ugh, revolting..." she said, while still proceeding to grind up the next bite, "Is this really my life from now on? All alone, hiding under some dark rock, eating flowers just to survive...?" Her eyes cast back out into the night's starry night, in the direction she was almost certain Darklight Tower was, "At least... At least then I had a roof over my head... I had food... a place to sleep..." So many simple pleasures that looking back now, she quickly realized were things that were taken for granted. Those were all basic necessities to keep her safe, keep her alive... even company to keep her from being alone.

A frown quickly grew on her face as she remembered the 'specific' company; Movera, always putting her down, making her feel worthless. Her other sisters weren't much better, like Iera and Hesta, always quick to take Movera's side when it came to her tormenting. Vedina wasn't nearly as bad, but that was probably because she strove to stay out of such petty squabbles altogether.

And of course Sylvia, the one mage whom she'd feared and admired her whole life, to the point she gave her the role of 'mother'. There were even times when she... cared for her, like an actual mother would! She helped her with the practice of her own ice spells, concentration on magicka reserves when using wards! Moments like those felt like she had actual worth in her eyes! What all of it was actually genuine? And what of it was completely false?

Yet another memory flash of the travelers' being brought in a sacrifices was plenty answer that she needed. The constant reminder of their faces right before they'd met their doom weighed on her mind, gnawed at her conscience...

"Ergh! Enough of these thoughts-!" she shook her head hard. Constantly thinking back on her now former life would do her no good. She was done with all that, if thanks to the rather unorthodox methods and timely arrival of those two random warriors. The likes of which she was certain she'd never see again, not that she was eager to...

She placed another piece of ground up Red Mountain Flower petals in her mouth. This time the taste didn't seem so horridly bitter as before. Or, was she just getting used to the taste? Regardless, a quick look at the base plant in her hand reminded her that it was in fact running smaller with each consumption. Her heart sank a little as the realization hit her: she'd have to find more food.

"Am I... going to have to... 'hunt' for food?" she said to herself, "Like those Nord hunters have been said to do out in these wilds...?" A quick glance down at her empty hand was plenty reminder of her dismal situation: a runaway mage with no food being forced to hunt for her own...

"I'll... I'll think about all that tomorrow..." Illia said, stifling a yawn in between her thoughts. She placed the remains of the Red Mountain plant back in her pouch, dusting her hands off in the process. Her back leaned up against the back wall, her legs huddled up and curled close to her chest, and her head resting upon them with her arms wrapping around? It was a crude way to sleep, but at least she didn't feel too chilly anymore. Maybe she could actually get some sleep this way. She closed her eyes, and tried her best to sleep, letting her mind empty itself of the burdens of the future's uncertainty...

* * *

-Regarding whether or not Darklight Tower is in actual visual range of Riften in the game, I took some artistic liberties in that regard. But it is true how when you'd reach the top of the tower there'd be a this like hill of land that a stone walkway stretches out towards. But anyway, probably just a minor thing; as usual, read, review, and I'll try to be back soon!-


	14. Chapter 14

-I deeply apologize for the lengthy delay in between last chapter and this one; I was dealing with internet related issues here at home that were confusing to me at the time, and only now still haven't been ideal. It didn't effect the actual writing process, yet it did effect motivation if I'm being honest. Still, I'll try and stay strong to keep getting these chapters out there for you. For now, enjoy!-

* * *

Lydia and Siffre walked slowly along the Rift road. Thankfully, they were fortunate enough to not run into any sort of nasty surprises, or detours, as they moved. Nonetheless, they both remained wary of whatever may have been lurking in the surrounding forests, and maybe a little more confident now that they were both armed and able to cover both themselves and each other.

"Finally, we made it..." Lydia said. Soft, orange glow of torchlight they had seen from a distance was now drastically reduced in size and scope. Two lit torches were posted on the stone wall that framed the massive wooden door before them. The moons' light from above bathed the walls in their own glow, which seemed to be further accented from this light mist that filled the air this evening. As such, the brick and stone appeared to glisten, a false finery. In spite of herself, Lydia had to give credit that these walls looked much sturdier than Whiterun's own walls. Though could these stand up to invasions? And if so, for how long...?

The two women walked forward, passing by a nearby wooden house off to the side. A pair of horses could be seen resting in adjoined stables, but no one else was outside of it at this time. No one could be seen in sight as far as either of them could see, except for a single torch-wielding guardsman. He stood in place as his head slowly turned towards the two women as they approached.

"Evening... you two travelers?" he spoke up, "What brings you to Riften at such late hour?"

"Yes... we're travelers," Siffre spoke as softly as she could manage.

"We're just looking for a place to rest for the evening," Lydia added.

"Is that so...?" the guardsman said. There was a strange infliction to his voice as he said that, "Well then... seems there's a lot of you these days..."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Lydia asked.

"You know, coming here to Riften, sometimes at odd hours as well," the man said, "Except, obviously not like you yourselves of course, some... 'less fortunate' souls. Some who don't quite have as much coin to themselves as you might think."

"You mean, refugees? Like those who had suffered dragon attacks?" Lydia asked, to which the guard nodded. Lydia frowned at this; a grim and painful reminder that the threat of these dragons seemed to be everywhere in Skyrim, not just in certain holds, "So then, what is your Jarl doing for them?"

"Donations my lady!" the guard said, a little enthusiastically, "Any bit of coin that can be spared would definitely help! In fact, you give to me what you can, and I'll make sure it fills the coffers personally!"

"Really?" Lydia said. Her hand made a motion towards her coin-purse, until she felt her thane's hand on her wrist first. She looked over at her, but was surprised to find a frown of her own, combined with the smallest sign of her head shaking. Before she could question her, she had already turned to look back at the guard.

"So then... if these are 'donations'..." she spoke her usual softness, yet a slight edge could be heard in her speech, "Then why would they be collected by one guardsman...? Alone, and outside the walls of the city it's meant for?" Lydia's eyes widened in realization; that's right! Those were very good points! Her head quickly turned back to the guard as well. The man's face could not be seen but there was that subtle twitch in his head movement that suggested... nervousness.

"Oh, well..." he said, "Riften's a far enough city on its own! We have to do all we can to... to compensate for our... poor placement in Skyrim..." Lydia lightly tilted her head. Those breaks in his sentence; something was definitely fishy going on here...

"But isn't Riften one of the five major cities of Skyrim?" Lydia gave her own question, "Surely it can't also be short on coin to have to request local charity...?"

"Um, I mean- that's... well..." the guard's speech was reduced to stammering by this point, and Lydia's eyes narrowed. Just what was this man really getting at? Time to find out-

"If this is truly coin going towards helping needy refugees, being housed within in these walls as you claim," Lydia continued, "I feel it'd much more reasonable to be personally hand-delivered to the Jarl or even the Jarl's court itself..." She trailed off, her message carrying its potent meaning for her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Siffre smiling at her.

"Ah, b-but of course! Of course that's where it would all be going!" the guard exclaimed, excitement sounding a little too forced in his voice this time, "I-I'm just saying, it might not hurt to, you know, 'lighten the load' towards someone else who could help you out in that regard! I could bring it to the Jarl mys-"

"I think we'll be perfectly fine... thank you..." Siffre cut in rather a forceful whisper, quickly so that vibrations wouldn't have a chance to spill forth before her. With that, she swiftly moved past the guardsman, seemingly catching him off guard by her sudden motion, with Lydia following straight behind her. Her mind was still processing that precise, forward bluntness her thane had just demonstrated to an actual city guardsman. Yet she was still in her own mind to be aware of following directly behind her as she pulled one of the city's doors open, allowing her to slip through first. Behind them, the guard could be seen not making any attempt to follow after as the door closed back.

Once inside, Lydia quickly walked back up with Siffre.

"How did you know?" The question was identical, asked at the exact same time by both of them. Lydia and Siffre surprised each other by their coincidental inquiry. It was then Siffre who hesitated enough for Lydia to know she could go first.

"How did you know if that guard was going to scam us of coin?" the housecarl asked. It was when her thane tilted her head and her mouth cracked open to reply that the answer to her own question hit her, "Of course...! You've had experience...?"

"Um, yes," Siffre replied, "We ran similar 'con-methods'... Though while I couldn't talk back then, I still listened to how they were told..." She looked back towards the now closed main gate, "What he was doing... it reminded me of it..." Lydia turned her head away and towards the inner reaches of Riften. The even moon's light shining from above, combined with a thick mist that blanketed all before them, and the entire city appeared to be shrouded in mystery. Yet despite that, all that could be heard were the sounds of crickets chirping, with the faint echoes of footsteps heard within. There was no sound of clamoring, talking, yelling, or any sort of sound that suggested refugees would be present in these city walls!

"I can't see, nor hear, any refugees..." she spoke aloud to Siffre, "Or could there actually be some here, but just in a building somewhere...?"

"I don't know... This is the first I've seen of this city, so I wouldn't know..." Siffre shrugged, while also trying and failing to contain a yawn, "Oh, I really am tired..." The two ladies turned back to face inwards and towards the city. Unfortunately, with dark of evening combined with the thick, misty fog that filled the air before them, their visibility was severely limited. They could maybe see about ten feet in front of them before nothing at all. And what they could see was only outline of wooden structured houses, the stone walkway they stood upon, and a soft glow of a nearby lit torch brazier. Unlike outside, no guards could immediately seen; though also after what had just happened, perhaps that was for the better.

The two of them slowly walked forward and closer into the mist. If it weren't for the straight path this stone walk way provided, they surely would've ended up being misdirected. Even walking this far and further into the city, the lack of anyone to be seen filled both women with equal parts nervousness as well as relief.

A few more steps forward and the path before them suddenly veered off to the left side, with a wooden bridge stretching before them to the right side. Instinct was to follow the stone path, but the mist had cleared just enough that something could be seen off to the right side and across the bridge. The thick, dark outline of a building, corner facing them, with a small sign that hung outside of a door. They moved across the bridge to get a closer inspection of what the sign said.

"Bee and Barb... Tavern..." Siffre read, "A place for drink, but for a bed...?"

"I guess we can find out," Lydia said with a shrug. The two approached the door, tugged on the door and beheld what was inside.

The dreary dim of the misty air instantly faded upon entry. Siffre and Lydia were now standing amidst a spacious tavern, pleasantly lit, with the light sound of clamor. This tavern's walls and floors were also made of wood, but their design made them stand out from Whiterun's in the way that they felt more like cabins in woods. There were many tables seen throughout the floor, with only few of them being occupied by patrons either drinking, eating, or talking. For the most part, the patrons seated were silently keeping to themselves, with one exception-

"Heed my words, people of Riften!" a man stood a few feet away from another tavern door. He was dressed in an orange, hooded robe, with his arms raised out before him and his face beheld passion upon it, "The return of the dragons is no mere coincidence! This is surely one of the signs that Lady Mara is displeased with your constant inebriation!" The proclamations of this man were not met with any sort of love from the tavern patrons. In fact, from the few patrons that actually did reply, only grumbles and jeers could be heard.

"Quit yer yammerin', Redguard priest!" a fancily-dressed man declared from one of the tables. His condition suggested he'd clearly drank all of what was in his tankard in hand, with his other hand pointing lazily in the priest's general direction, plus the flush gracing his cheeks and slurred speech, "Can't a man have a drink without someone screamin' in his ear?!"

"Like your own screaming is helping..." his drinking mate replied under his breath from in front of him. The priest on the other hand was undeterred by the protests, and in fact retained his passion.

"So put down your flagons filled with your vile liquids, and embrace the teachings of the Divine of Love herself!" the man continued. Another groan could be heard, this time from what appeared to be the barkeep herself. But it wasn't any human Lydia had ever seen. In fact, this may have been the first time she'd ever laid eyes upon these 'Argonians'. She'd heard of them of course, but never met any in real life. The reptilian woman had her face covered by her clawed hands when she placed them down.

"No no, Maramal, we've talked about this..." she groaned, "Talen!" Her head snapped to look to the side. Another Argonian walked across the floor, tail swiftly following his movements. This one was more so dressed as a bartender than the other Argonian. He approached the priest, Maramal, even as the man continued speaking and addressing her.

"Keerava, surely we can come to an understanding? These people must be made aware of the chaos they're sowing-!" The other Argonian reached him by now and placed a hand on his shoulder. There was no effort in moving him as if to throw him out, but rather a simple gesture as one friend would give another.

"Enough, Maramal, we've all heard these stories and rumors of the dragons," he said, his voice much more soothing and controlled than his female counterpart's, "It's no reason to use that as an excuse to harass our customers." Maramal's gaze shifted between both Keerava's and Talen's before letting a hefty sigh.

"Very well, Talen," he said, brushing the reptilian hand from his shoulder and turning to the door, "I'll remove myself from this den of inequity..."

"W-we're not kicking you out!" Talen called after him even as he was leaving through the door, "Keep the sermons at the Temple and let us all sin here in peace..." A hard slamming of the door cut him off, with a few of the patrons quickly objecting to the sudden noise. They nonetheless resumed their drinking as they had before.

"By the Gods, finally..." Keerava groaned. It was then that she suddenly turned her head in Siffre and Lydia's direction, as if having noticed them for the first time, "Oh, more customers?"

"Hm?" Talen said. He turned his head to the other entrance, where Siffre and Lydia were still standing, "Oh, good evening, ladies. What can we do for you?" The two ladies were broken out of their stare of watching the scene unfold before them and took a few steps forward into the tavern area.

"We'd... we'd like a room for this evening; the two of us," Lydia said, "And some food please." Lydia hadn't meant for her eyes to look like they'd been staring longer than they needed to. After all, It was her first time not only meeting one of these lizard-people, but actually holding civilized conversation with one. Was she even staring for too long? This Argonian seemed to be at least cordial with them, so she hoped he wouldn't have taken offense to her perceived stare.

"Oh, alright then," the bartender, Talen calmly replied, "I can set you up with something, Are you thirsty? Hungry? Both?"

"Do you have any... mead?" Siffre quietly spoke up, "And... maybe some kind of meat...?"

"Of course. Some grilled chicken fillets were prepared not too long ago before you'd shown up, which I believe there are still some left over," Talen spoke, "They're not 'as' warm as being straight from the fires, but they're still warm enough to eat. As for drinks, might I be so bold as to suggest one of our 'special drinks'?"

"Ah... I'm fine with just mead, thank you," Siffre dismissed with a light wave of her hand. Lydia on the other hand found herself slightly curious. This Argonian hadn't mentioned anything about her staring, thus far at least; but what was the harm in knowing about such different drinks other than mead? She was in a different city than Whiterun after all...

"Actually, I would like to know about these 'special drinks' of yours..." she said. Talen regarded her, his eyes twitching ever so slightly in a way Lydia hopefully meant he was happy with her suggestion.

"Ah, excellent! I would be happy to tell you more," he said, "But first, would you like to have a seat here in the tavern first...?" Lydia glanced around the tavern floor. Quite frankly, the company that lay before could've been much better. Granted she had only just arrived in this completely different city not but five minutes ago, and it might've been to quick and harsh to judge. But still, why did everyone around appear to be so... depressed? Almost all the patrons' faces, from those that glanced at the two of them to those who kept glued on the tables and food before them, nearly all of them had some kind of negative spirit displayed on their face. Was this normal for this city?

"I think... we'll take this to the room... if that's alright," Siffre quickly and silently spoke up for them. There she went again; so eager to speak for the both of them, despite not being the 'best' speaker...

"As you wish," Talen said, then proceeded to walk in a direction along the tavern floor, "I'll show you to your room, right this way. Fortunately, the room available does have two beds in it-"

"Hey lizard! Need more ale over here!" a voice from within the room cut him off. It came from the fancily-garbed man whom had shouted at Maramal earlier.

"Um, I think you've had enough, Vulwulf," Talen said, halting his steps to regard him, "And it's getting late, maybe you should head on home for now..."

"Stupid scale-back! I say when I'm damn well finished!" the Nord slurred his words, "Now get me another mug, 'fore I have your hide!"

"Comin' up, Lord Show-Shod!" the female Argonian called out from behind the bar itself, "You go ahead, Talen, then back down here!"

"Thanks, Keerava," the male Argonian said, resuming his movements in leading the two women. He rounded a wooden corner, which actually revealed steps leading to the upper floor, before talking again, "You'll have to forgive him; Vulwulf Snow-Shod, he's... a regular here..."

Lydia glanced back in the man's general direction with narrowed eyes even as she walked up the steps, "I think I can tell; are they all like that?"

"Thankfully no," Talen said, "However, don't think 'too' harshly of Lord Snow-Shod; he did lose his daughter in the Great War..." the Argonian quickly stifled what could only be described as a very quick, humorless chuckle from his mouth, "As I'm sure he'd remind everyone..." The three finally reached the top of the steps and turned another corner. A long hallway stretched out before them, with a room and its open door awaiting them at the end. It was a small room, yet not uncomfortably cramped, with indeed two beds inside. Lydia and Siffre stepped inside, with Talen remaining outside, "Now then, you wanted to know more about my specialty drinks, m'lady?"

"Oh um, yes, I would..." Lydia said, instantly reminded that she had said that. The slight parching of her throat served as further reminder.

"They're my own personal recipe," Talen explained, "The first is called 'Velvet Lechance'. It's a mixture of blackberry, honey, spiced wine and a touch of nightshade- but, perfectly safe, I assure you," The Argonian quickly added after seeing Lydia's eyes briefly widen at the mention of nightshade.

"Nightshade...?" she said to herself, "Um... I don't know; what are the others?"

"The second is called 'The White-Gold Tower'; heavy cream with a layer of blended mead, lavender and dragon's tongue on top," Talen explained. Siffre tilted her head as she listened to these strange drinks being described out loud.

"What's dragon's tongue...?" she softly asked.

"It's a type of flower," Lydia quickly explained.

"You... you make many drinks, with plants added to them?" she asked him directly this time.

"These plants are mostly used as a sort of garnish, usually sprinkled atop. I conceived these recipes having studied with a friend of mine in Gideon; he was an alchemist," Talen said, "However, the third drink doesn't have plants, but I can say it's only for the most daring. It's called 'The Cliff-Racer'; Firebrand Wine, Cyrodiilic Brandy, Flin and Sujamma. Those last two are drinks native to Morrowind, and quite popular over there from what I hear. However, these four drinks mixed into one create a strong, powerful taste that's only for the bravest of souls..." It was Lydia's turn this time to tilt her head with a raised eyebrow as well. Firebrand Wine she was familiar with, Cyrodiilic Brandy not so much, and two other drinks completely foreign to her. The first one had its own unique kick to it, and with the way he was describing it, it sounded very much that it would be a strong drink with four times the amount of kick. This was starting to sound like a drink for only the most daring...

Luckily, she was feeling rather daring herself.

"I think I'll have that one; a Cliff-Racer," she said. That look of his eyes practically glowing with joy like she'd seen before returned again.

"Wonderful choice, I assure you," he said, "Alright then, I'll be right back with both your food and those drinks." A simple nod from the two women, and Talen took his leave back down the hall. Now alone, Siffre and Lydia were able to truly take in this room they were in. There were two beds in this room, which they both took a seat at the edges of. Lydia couldn't feel exactly what it was she sitting on, with the armor she was still wearing, but it was already infinitely more comfortable than that bed she'd slept in at High Hrothgar. For one thing, there actually felt like there was a mattress beneath her!

The room's walls were decorated here and there with various pictures and paintings. Most of them were of locations, whether they were based off of real life places or dreamt up from the imagination of the artist, there was little way to be sure.

"So... have you ever been here...?" Siffre's voice spoke up. The Dragonborn was in the process of removing her own arm gauntlets, which prompted Lydia to do the same.

"No, I can't say that I have," she replied, "I mean, Jarl Balgruuf hardly leaves Whiterun anymore, but in earlier days, he would leave to discuss things with other Jarls in different Holds. I think he's spoken to Jarl Laila Law-Giver before..."

"That's who this city's Jarl is?" Lydia nodded.

"I never met her myself," she recalled, "but from what I've heard, she seemed an honorable sort."

"Yeah... I mean, for someone who has the name 'Law-Giver' in her name..." Siffre added. Lydia's eyes narrowed into a slight frown as she recalled.

"Still, what kind of city has its guards doing what that one at the gate tried?" she spoke, "I didn't see any refugees here when we walked into the city, did you?"

"No... I didn't," Siffre said, "Though there was a lot of fog-" A soft sound of throat clearing drew both women back to the door. There stood Talen, with two separate plates of chicken and flagons in each hand.

"Here you ladies are..." he said, handing each one to the both of them, "That should be... thirty gold."

"Wow, that was fast..." Lydia said. She took her food and drink in hand, reached over to her side to fetch forth the requested gold coins.

"Thank you..." Siffre quietly said as she accepted her food and drink, "Hey um... just wondering, are there been any... refugees, here in this city?" Lydia's eyebrow raised at the question.

"Refugees?" Talen asked as he took the coins tha Lydia offered to him.

"Yes..." Siffre said, "You see, the guard at the gate said something about... refugees coming here... likely from the dragon attacks... and then we heard that priest earlier... about dragons..."

"Oh... oh, I see..." Talen said, a tone of voice that was vastly different from before, "Well I might as well tell you now: there are no refugees here. I mean, nothing more unusual than the occasional beggar you might notice."

"There's not?" Lydia said, "Then... what that guard at the entrance said...?" Talen made a sound that sounded something similar to a hiss.

"It seems it's running ever deeper..." he spoke quieter, as if speaking to himself, "Listen, I can tell that you two aren't from here; travelers most likely. Allow me to give you some friendly advice: Riften is not for you..." Both women frowned at that statement.

"Huh...?" Siffre said.

"By that I mean Riften, it's not for any decent person to want to live in..." Talen said, "Corruption, lies, deceit... they're the order of the day here. In fact, it's no secret that 'Thieves Guild' is back at it again..." Siffre's and Lydia's eyes both narrowed with varying levels of concern at this.

"A 'Thieves' Guild...?" Lydia said.

"Trust me, not any sort of group you or anyone would want to have anything to do with," Talen said, lightly shaking his head, "So, don't take it the wrong way when I say this: you're better moving on from here..."

"I... I see..." Siffre said, casting a glance at her housecarl, "We'll... we'll be careful."

"Good," Talen nodded, "But anyway, enjoy yourselves this evening, and if there's anything else you need, just let me know." With that, the Argonian turned around and walked back and down the hallway, leaving the two women along. Siffre quickly got up to lean forward and shut the door completely before returning to her seat.

"How can... a guild of... thieves?" Lydia said to herself, yet still aloud, "How could something like that exist?"

"I don't know..." Siffre said, "But if there's one thing I do know... where coin is involved, you can rally... certain people to do... anything... often working together as well..." She looked back up at Lydia, "We'll just have to be careful here, I think..."

"Agreed," Lydia nodded. She instinctively moved her tankard-held hand to her lips, and for a split-moment was reminded that she hadn't ordered a 'special' drink instead of mead. Even before the brew touched her lips, her nose was assaulted by many different aromas. It was almost overwhelming enough to keep her from taking that first sip, but she powered through it-

A single taste was all she tasted to be even more overpowered! Her eyes widened in amazement at this mixture she held in her hand! Her tongue felt like it was burning from the way mead usually does, yet she still detected some tangy taste within it as well. And even after five seconds of recovering from that first taste, it still felt just as potent as before!

"By the Divines...!" she spoke softly.

"Huh? What is it?" Siffre asked, tilting her head, "Oh wait... you ordered one of those 'special' drinks, didn't you...? What does it taste like?"

"This... this is..." Lydia tried to gather thoughts properly in her mind for an at least adequate description, "It's... so powerful!"

"Huh?" Siffre leaned her head closer, her own tankard seemingly forgotten even while she still held it.

With renewed taste buds, Lydia took a bolder swig of her drink, letting the flavor of the drink practically fill her mouth entirely. Her eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise as each individual taste could be felt, almost in their entirety! What did that man say? Four different drinks? All blended into a single one? And each one having their own degree of 'kick', it meant about four times that much in this case!

She savored the flavors in her mouth for a moment longer, before finally swallowing and letting the molten beverage run down her throat.

"By the Divines...! That was... incredible!" she said. It was as she spoke that she could feel that subtle feeling of fuzziness around the crown of her head. Usually a whole pint of individual mead would have a similar effect, but with this...

"Was it really...?" Siffre asked. The tone heard in her soft voice suggested her interest had definitely been piqued, "Well... maybe... could I try? A sip...?" With a shrug, Lydia handed her tankard to her thane.

The Dragonborn held the tankard close to her for a sniff, similarly to what Lydia had done. She too took a healthy swig of the drink, though maybe just a little longer than Lydia's had been. Nonetheless, the lowered the tankard to reveal her own widened eyes.

"Oh...! Oh my...!" she exclaimed, her volume control forgotten for a moment and hefty vibrations burst from her mouth. Perhaps it was because of her so recent drinking, but Lydia was almost certain she could detect the faint scent of the drink in the air along with this Voice escaping, "Th-that was... so strong! I... I..." As she struggled for words Lydia quickly reached back across to take back her own tankard into her own hand.

"This is my drink, remember...?" she questioned, quickly going for another sip. Each gulp she took she could almost feel herself relaxing, more and more...

* * *

_"... -dia...? Lydia..?"_

Her eyes broke open as she woke, though to immediate regret. She found her head held a dull, almost painful throbbing in it, near the back where it met the neck. By the Divines, her head!

"Ugh... Please, not so loud..." she herself whispered, followed by a dismissing wave of her hand. Her opened eyes took in where she was: still in the rented inn's room, though this time with gentle rays of light pouring in through the nearby window. For the most part nothing appeared to be out of place...

Turning her head slightly she could see Siffre, sitting on the edge of her own bed, one hand securing the buckles to one of her own leg braces. The other one was casually rubbing her own head. Was her head hurting as her own was? Just how much had they drank of that 'special drink'?

Slowly, she raised herself up off of the bed, her feet touching the floor. However, only the faintest touch was felt as they made contact, which initially confused Lydia. Looking down, she was instantly made aware of something- she had fallen asleep with most of her armor on! No wonder her upper body still felt so stiff!

"Ah... morning...?" she heard Siffre speak again, softly this time.

"By the Gods..." Lydia said, rubbing her head with both of her hands, "How... how much did we drink last night?"

"I... don't remember..." Siffre shrugged, "I remember having a taste of your drink, that 'Cliff-runner' or whatever it was called... then drinking my own, and then..." The Dragonborn's eyes squinted as she tried to recall, "Urgh... That's all I remember..."

"We didn't..." Lydia said as she looked around, "What did we do, last night...?" Nothing in their room appeared out of the ordinary, about the same as they'd first seen when they came in last night. Could that eliminate the possibility of drunk-induced rowdiness? She herself had drank her fair share of mead before, and even once or twice fallen under drunken influences. But perhaps the memories of what she'd done while under were... best left unsaid...

"I don't... hopefully, nothing..." Siffre said. She shook her head quickly, then winced immediately with regret after she'd done that. She stood to her own feet, thankfully not making too much noise in the process. Before Lydia herself could stand, she'd need to replace her gauntlets back to her arms. They were still close by, on the little drawer section next to her bed. She must have put them there last night at some point. She slipped them back on, tightened their straps, and finally stood to her own feet. The two weapons lay on the floor directly in front of the bed; her sheathed sword, and that unused mace she'd found. She must have taken them loose and set them there, for all she knew. The sword was easy enough to re-attach to her waist, but the mace...? Oh well, they were planning to be rid of it soon, so she might as well hold it by hand for now.

"Well, aside from this headache, I'd say I'm ready to get going..." Lydia said, speaking in her own soft tone. Siffre nodded as well, she herself having already been dressed before the housecarl had woken. She opened the door, the two ladies gathering their personal belongings back on their persons, and made their way out and through the hallway.

As they walked down the stairs, only silence greeted them from the main tavern floor. Perhaps that was a good thing at the moment; loud noises would not feel good for the senses at the moment. There was no one to be seen inside the Bee and Barb's tables, unlike last night. The only people to be seen were the two Argonians that it was established ran this place. The female, Keerava still stood behind the bar-top, rubbing the countertop off with a rag, while the male Talen casually swept the floors. The sound of footsteps against the wooden floors drew their attention to the two Nord women.

"Oh, good morning to you two," he politely greeted, "I trust all is well?"

"Y-yes, thank you, but..." Siffre said, while taking a moment to rub her head with one hand.

"Ah, I take it you've enjoyed the 'Cliff-Racer'?" he said with a tilted head, "Trust me, it was obvious..."

"Huh?" Siffre said, for a brief moment forgetting her vocal volume control, and small vibrations were felt, "U-um, we didn't... do anything... did we?"

"Hmph, as in like the loud noises you were making in your room?" Keerava scoffed, "Take my advice: next time Talen here offers you his 'special drinks', don't give him the satisfaction-"

"Keerava, please..." Talen said, his tail slumping even more downward somehow, "Don't listen to her; there was no trouble, at all."

"Oh, um... alright..." Siffre said. She spared a look at Lydia, the two exchanging shrugs, before she looked back to him, "Well then, I guess... we'll be on our way..."

"Safe travels, land-striders," the more civil of the two Argonians said with a nod. With that, Siffre and Lydia made their way to one of the wooden doors of the tavern, pushing through to exit.

The light greeted them almost immediately; an unrelenting morning glare accented with through the light mist in the air. Their eyes squinted in response until they slowly adjusted. With a clearer view, they gazed upon this new city they now stood in, through the light of morning.

Riften appeared for the most part a wooden city. What it was they walked upon was actually a wooden sort of bridge, which held along the stone ground next to it. It only was so because off to the other side, and over a wooden railing, was a dip into a water aqueduct below. Light morning dew could be felt along the top of the wooden railing. This same, mist gave off its familiar scent on the air, but at the same time, mixed with something else. Something that smelt like... vegetables.

As they walked on, and more was revealed through the clearing mist, what could now be seen in view appeared to be a town square of sorts. A circular dip in the concrete, with a well in the very center. On four sides of this well four separate wooden stalls stood, with one single person standing within each one. Their voices rang out, advertising their wares, while other customers and patrons walked around in the center themselves, occasionally stopping to browse themselves.

At the sight of this, Lydia was reminded of the mace that she was carrying in her hand, normally reserved for a blade.

"A marketplace?" she said, "Looks like we could sell off this mace to one of those stands there..."

"Yeah, let's go..." Siffre agreed. As the women drew closer to the center, the mass of people and clamoring grew louder. They moved closer to a small, brick wall that ran the perimeter's length of the circular center, where at the edge of it sat a man. As directly opposed to the better dressed people of this place, this man was dressed in rags that were barely held together by a single string. It covered the upper section of his body, and thankfully as he was sitting down, it was unknown if it concealed the lower half as well. The man looked up at the two women as they drew nearer to him, face dirty, eyes pleading, and shaking hands held up before him.

"A coin or two, for a beggar...?" he spoke, the volume in his own voice as low as Lydia had come to know Siffre's as being. Speaking of her, the Dragonborn made a single face at the man, and proceeded to continue to move along the wall. Lydia watched after her, confusion flashing over her own face. She looked back to the man below her, and after a moment's pause, fished forth a single coin to hand to him.

"Oh, thank you!" he said, slowly taking the coin, "Divines bless your kind heart!"

"Just use it wisely, yeah?" Lydia said. Her fair share of encounters with beggars in Whiterun gave her a good sense of what to say in such situations. As long as they weren't greedy, they would not starve.

"Lydia? Over here!" she heard her thane's voice, small vibrations carrying out. Looking up, Siffre was standing along another side of the center, where a blacksmith was seen sitting at a grindstone. She quickly picked up her own pace and rejoined the Dragonborn.

"Oh, hello there," the smith greeted, "What brings you two to Balimund's today? Repair? Purchase?"

"Oh, well..." Lydia said, holding up the steel mace before him, "I wonder if we could sell you this mace here?" The smith, Balimund, blinked, and he ceased the spinning of his wheel. All at once, the grinding sound and the flying sparks stopped as well. With one hand, he took the mace from Lydia to inspect it closely.

"Hm... not bad, not bad at all..." he said, "No scratches, indentures, nor imperfections upon the craft-work... From the looks of it, it's hardly seen any fight in months." He looked back up at his two patrons, "Yeah, I can give you a fair price for this bit of weaponry; say... twenty gold." His offer left Lydia with a smile.

"That is fair; we'll take it!" she said.

"Excellent..." the smith stood from his grindstone and walked over to the door of the building he worked in front of, while pulling a key from his apron pocket, "Just wait right here, I'll not be long at all..." With a turning of the key in the door's lock, he quickly entered and vanished from view. Siffre and Lydia stood patiently, for what felt like a generous ten seconds, before Balimund reemerged, a sack of coins in hand this time, "And here you are." Lydia took the coin purse and got to work adding its amount to her own on her waist.

"You have our thanks..." Siffre said.

"My pleasure," Balimund said. As he walked back to his post, he paused suddenly and cast a look back towards them, "You know, I couldn't help but notice something else, ma'am..." Siffre tilted her head, and Lydia looked back up in response.

"Huh? Me?" she said.

"Yes," the smith replied, "Your armor; I couldn't help but notice dent marks on its side. Looks like something had to pound it but hard to make those kinds of marks. I would even say you must've had a disagreement with some local troll..." The mere mentioning of it was enough for the two women to exchange nervous looks between each other.

"Er... yes, something like that..." Lydia replied with a light shrug.

"Well how about this: for seven gold, you let me take a look at that armor, and I'll fix it up right?" Balimund offered.

"You'd do that?" Lydia asked, "Well, in that case I'd be grateful!" She set her shield down at her feet to free both of her hands. They both set to loosing the buckle on one side of her upper armor, when suddenly she felt something on the other end. Her blood chilled in alarm from this sudden, unexpected action, until she turned to realize that it was in fact Siffre who was taking care of the other side.

"Here, let me get this for you..." she spoke. Lydia said nothing, but was grateful nonetheless. Finally, the two women released both the clasps on their respective sides, allowing the armor to slip off from Lydia. Cool, morning air hit her exposed skin in earnest, at least that which was no longer concealed by the armor and its sleeves. Lydia shivered, she was not wearing armor on her upper body anymore, and in its place was a plain tunic. She tried not to make a habit of baring such state of dress in public for too long, despite it not being completely indecent. As long as the work would end up completed, she handed the armor to Balimund.

"Alright, thank you," he said, "This'll probably take a little longer than before, but the results will be nothing less than perfect." With that he turned and walked around his forge, to a nearby workbench. With strikes of his hammer, he began to work, each pound sending echoes throughout the general area. However, each strik was soon drowned out by a sudden loud commotion that was starting to arise.

Lydia and Siffre turned around to see that something was in fact happening behind them. Some people were starting to gather in a small group, facing something close by to the wooden railing.

"Gotcha now, thief!" a single woman's voice rang out.

"What's happening...?" Siffre softly said. She picked her shield back up in her hand, then her and Lydia found themselves reangling themselves for a better view. Eventually, having merged themselves in with the crowd, they could see exactly what was happening. A woman could be seen, her determined face adorned with blue face paint in a war-like design, clad in iron-strapped armor, with a firm grip on someone else. The other person was dressed some strange outfit, brown-colored leather, a hood covering the head, with his arm yanked and held firmly behind his back. He could be seen struggling as hard as he could against the burlier woman's grip, to no avail.

"Let me go...!" he cried out.

"No escape for you this time!" the Nord woman said. By this point, a couple of Riften's guards were appearing in the small crowd that was forming. The leathered man only seemed to struggle harder in their presence, while the woman looked at them with relief, "Ah, guards! Here you are: I've caught one from the Thieves Guild, right here! He was trying to steal from the merchants!" The guards quickly moved to take the man into their own hands, the woman gladly relinquishing her hold on him. It as at this point another woman had stepped forward; in direct contrast to the armor-clad warrior woman, this one appeared smaller, was dressed in extremely finer looking clothes, and her unmarked face held a strange look on it. Almost as if she was disappointed by what was happening before her.

"Thane Mjoll the Lioness... I see you've made yourself busy this fine morning..." the fancy woman said, barely gesturing to the restrained man as if she wouldn't dare acknowledge his presence directly.

"Maven Black-Briar," the woman 'Mjoll' said, her tone suggested unease, "I've caught this thief just now; I'm simply doing what any decent person would've done."

"Indeed..." Maven said, almost dismissively, "Then if you don't mind, I will be taking over in 'escorting' him to his proper jail cell." At the mention of cell, the restrained thief thrashed harder in protest, with the guards holding his arms tighter.

"Actually, I think I would be more comfortable seeing him there personally," Mjoll spoke up, "These thieves can be crafty, after all." Maven looked back at the other Nord, almost mildly surprised that she had spoken up without warning.

"Nonsense, people like him are filth, nothing more," she spoke with disdain when she glanced in his direction, "You've done your job, now allow me to do mine. After all, as we both serve the Jarl's court personally, let us allow each other to perform our duties without hinderances..." When Mjoll hesitated from immediately replying, Maven took it as her sign to move. With a snap of her fingers, indicative to the two guards, the hauled the screaming and thrashing man towards the steps to a large, stone building, herself trailing not far behind.

For the group of people left behind after this display, after seeing the commotion was over they began to scatter, one by one. Mjoll herself let out a sigh, then walked off in another direction away from the stone building.

"That one..." Lydia heard Siffre softly speak next to her, "She wouldn't have had much trouble... taking that man to jail herself..." Lydia didn't say anything, yet in her mind she very much agreed. Was this just how some things were done, in this completely foreign city to her? She was reminded of the fact that this city had an alleged 'Thieves Guild', so maybe this was some strange everyday occurrence here-

She turned to her side opposite Siffre to return to Balimund, when she suddenly seized up in surprise. Someone was standing close to her, facing her, and who also jumped a little in surprise as she did.

"Whoa whoa! I'm sorry!" this woman held her hands up, "I didn't mean to surprise you..." This action drew Siffre's attention as well, who put a stabilizing hand to Lydia's shoulder. Both women now looked upon this random person: it was a woman, a Bosmer by the looks of it, dressed in casual clothing. Her facial complexion suggested she was young, or however 'young' translated to those of Elven blood. She had light brown flowing hair, skin that was a darker shade of brown, with eyes that were widened a bit to show off their singular dark color.

"Ah... it's alright..." Lydia said, catching her breath, "I just didn't know someone was near me..."

"Yeah, sorry again... " the woman said, "Hm, I don't think I've ever seen you two here before... You're not from here, are you?"

"No, we're not..." Siffre softly said, "We were just... passing through..."

"Ah, I see. That's good..." the Bosmer said. She turned her head to where that scene near the town center had just now occurred, "And I guess you saw that, didn't you?" She looked back at them, "It's an... unfortunate part of living here in Riften; really mind your valuables or coin purses, or else you get people like 'him' after you..."

"We'd heard about that, this 'Thieves Guild'?" Lydia said, "What exactly is the Jarl doing about it?"

The woman shrugged, "Honestly? I couldn't tell you exactly. I'm never privy to what goes on up there in Mistveil Keep; it's all above my paygrade. But between you and me, if there are still thieves like that running around... not enough seems to be getting done..." The woman looked at the two, "So... what are your names?"

"Oh, I'm Lydia, and this is Siffre," Lydia said.

"A pleasure, my friends call me 'Gal'," the woman stretched her hand out, shaking each womans' hand, "And I guess you've also seen those two members of the Jarl's court: Thane Mjoll the Lioness, and Treasurer Maven Black-Briar. You do not want to cross either of them on their bad days..."

"Yeah, I can see..." Lydia heard Siffre speak. 'Thane' Mjoll the Lioness? Well, she was certainly looking the part of an abled warrior, even as someone sworn to protect someone else. She found herself smirking; as a dedicated protector herself, she could appreciate that.

"Um, pardon my curiosity, but... what's with your armor?" Gal pointed out, "Or I guess I should say, 'lack' of it?"

"Oh yeah, we were letting the blacksmith repair it when we heard this commotion..." Lydia said, looking down at her front. Normally her being called out for being in an unusual state of undress would be enough to embarrass her, but she was in the immediate presence of fellow women, so it was not nearly so in this case.

"Let's see if he's finished..." Siffre said, subtly reminding the two of them of their present concern. Lydia was quick to give an agreeing nod. As the two of them moved back to Balimund's station, they noticed that Gal was still following them, or perhaps casually walking beside them. Her suddenly appearing at her side, and now her suddenly choosing to walk alongside them? And about as roughly close as last time?

"Do you... um, what do you do around here?" Lydia found herself asking.

"Hm? Oh I work over at the fishery," Gal said, "Was just on my way there, actually; it's that door next to the blacksmith." She pointed her finger forward, to where there was indeed a door close by to where the smithy was. A couple of people were seen entering through that door one by one at the moment.

"Oh, I see..." the housecarl said. She didn't even see that door there the first time they'd gone to the smithy. Was that starting to be a habit now? Not noticing certain things right away while she was in this city? She felt a strange shudder run up her back as she thought.

"Like I said, I was actually just one my way there, until that whole thing happened..." Gal said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder, "Still... Seeing new people here, it's... well, seeing the same people in this same city can get kinda stale, you know what I mean...?"

"If you think that... why don't you leave...?" Siffre asked, earning her a look from Gal.

"Leave? Leave Riften?" she asked incredulously, then shook her head, "No way, I live here! I couldn't imagine trying my luck anywhere else..." By now the three women had arrived back in front of the smithy. Before them, Balimund was still hammering on the workbench a couple of times before he stopped to pause. He then turned around, and his eyes widened a bit.

"Oh, there you are!" he said to Lydia, "I was just about to call for you. Just finished up here; the armor's better than ever!" He set his hammer down then handed Lydia the steel of armor she had been wearing. She took it in her hands to inspect closer; no longer were there any unseemly dents in the side, like there had been. The steel was back to it's perfect shape, with a perfect smooth finish to match!

"It... it looks good! Thank you!" Lydia said with a smile.

"My pleasure," Balimund said, "Now, that'll be... seven gold please." Lydia nodded, the proceeded to set her shield down against her shins again, and passed her armor to Siffre to briefly hold.

"Alright... here you are," Lydia said, handing the gold to the smith.

"Thank you," he said, "Good doin' business with ya." With that, Lydia took the armor back from Siffre, and the two proceeded to place the armor back into place upon her torso in no time.

"Here, here you are..." Lydia heard Gal say, then looked to find her holding her shield out for her to take.

"Um, thank you..." she said, taking it back in her left hand again.

"Ah, I was wondering something else..." Gal said, "You said you two are travelers, but... where exactly are you from?" This strange question caught the two women off guard, and they found themselves exchanging looks with each other.

"We... we've come from Whiterun," Lydia said.

"Whiterun? Wow..." Gal said in a surprised tone, arms crossing over her chest, "Always wondered what that city was like... That's the one with Jarl Balgruuf, the... Greater...?" Lydia was the first to nod, Siffre right after, "Actually, I had a suspicion from when I noticed your sword there; that horse image, it's Whiterun's symbol, isn't it?" In response, Lydia instinctively looked down to her sword and sheathe. She wasn't sure why, just this random urge to make sure it was there at the mentioning of it. Almost as if she'd forgotten of it, or its significance.

"That's right, where this blade's from at least..." Lydia said, patting a hand on the blade's exposed hilt. There was a subtle action in Gal's face as she did that; her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"That must be nice, being afforded weapons by... an honorable sort..." Gal said, her voice slightly lower in tone than how it was before. Lydia found her eyes noting something, upon this woman's face. Her facial features suddenly appeared more... subdued, drawn in, as if she was disappointed with something. Just as quickly, Gal shook her head, returning her face to it's previously joyous state, "Ah, I'm sorry! I... the breakfast I had this morning... it hasn't been sitting right with me, for some reason..."

"Oh, I see..." Lydia said.

"Well anyway... I guess I'll be... on my way," Gal said, proceeding to turn and move towards the door next to the smithy, "Nice talking to you both; be careful on the road!" Lydia and Siffre watched as she left, giving courteous waves after her. The door closed behind her, and the two looked at each other.

"That was, well..." Lydia said, "This has certainly been a strange experience..."

"Yeah, from what we've seen alone..." Siffre said, looking all around again at their surroundings, "But... I think we've stayed long enough... we should probably get going ourselves..."

"Agreed, let's get going..." With that the two warriors rounded the circular wall of the city's center and back along the wooden path they'd walked before. The mist was thinner when looking towards the city's wall compared to looking inwards, so it was much easier to tell where exactly to go, even with it being morning. A Riften guard posted at the main doors gave a curt nod to the two as they opened the massive door on one side to allow themselves to exit.

* * *

"Lass? What is it?!" Brynjolf asked, Galadriel leading him practically by held hand alone. She was dragging him to the concealed Thieves Guild entrance at this point. He had no idea what had gotten into Galadriel in just a short amount of time to get her this worked up. Usually that look she sported on her face suggested she was onto some highly ambitious task, or something had managed to rile her up. However, with the narrow look in her eyes, the latter seemed true in this case; something had seriously gotten to her.

"Please tell me Karliah has finally returned to Riften, Bryn?" she asked over her shoulder as she walked.

"Yea, she arrived back in Riften not too long ago," the man replied.

"Good, very good..." she said, "Also... how's your skill with that great-sword these days?"

"My great-sword?" Brynjolf asked. His eyes widened in genuine confusion; just what was going on here? "Lass, Galadriel... why don't you just tell me exactly what's going on here?" Galadriel actually slowed down, and turned her head to look back at him.

"Bryn... you remember that one carriage driver's report, that listed Balgruuf's sword out there?" she said, "And how it was completely unlikely we'd ever see it? Well I was just talking to someone who had that sword on them just a few minutes ago! Likely the same person who was in possession of it!"

"By the Eight... you're serious?" Brynjolf said, "Well then, what happened? Didn't you try to get it?"

"Of course I tried! And I almost did!" Galadriel replied, "Except, those two women, they were probably mercenaries... I don't think the subtle approach is right for this situation. So that's why... I think we'll need the Trinity..." Brynjolf was silent for a handful of seconds, his head tilting in confusion. Then, his eyes widened again with realization.

"Oh... I see..." he said, "Alright then, I'm with you lass; let's go." Nothing more was said between them as they swiftly made their way to Riften's cematary. Thankfully, that Talos priestess Nura Snow-Shod was nowhere to be seen, which would let them do what they needed to do without fear of discovery. They passed by the meaningless gravestones in the open, moving instead towards a singled stone casket, located inside of a small enclosure. Galadriel's hand spread over the front of the casket's engravings, feeling for something, and pressed in on a diamond shape. She then stepped back, allowing the rest to do its work.

With a grinding sound of stone on stone, the casket slowly slid backwards into the wall itself, taking most of the floor with it as well. A new section of previously hidden steps was revealed, and the two hastily made their way downward. Once inside, and walking upon more level ground within, Brynjolf pulled another chain inside, the casket up and behind them closing back in place, concealing them in darkness.

* * *

-Again, deep apologies for the huge wait; let me know what you all thought in the reviews, and I'll try to be more prompt in getting the next chapter(s) out as well! Bye bye!-


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